Our Fight Is Not Over
by Kurrent
Summary: (100/Frozen Crossover) When a mysterious figure creates a portal between The 100's Earth and Arendelle, Clarke and Lexa have to join forces with Anna and Elsa to defeat those intent on conquering both realms. Also CORRECTS 3X07, because I want to do my part in fixing that shit with a solid story. [Clarke/Lexa], [Elsa/Anna], [Harper/Monroe]. Cover from LexaRecovery tumblr.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** This story is my response to the senseless cruelty that was committed to the fans and the cast of The 100 with episode 3x07. I can't sit aside and not do my part to help correct the grievous mistake that showrunners committed. _This story is rated M, for violence, some dark themes and some sensuality._ Don't worry if you don't get everything this first chapter. You're not supposed to understand all of it just yet, but it will make sense as the story progresses, I promise. I'm shooting for about 15-20 chapters. We'll see. Just so you know, things are going to happen _fast_ in this story, exactly like in The 100.

Please note that this is a crossover story, involving both the characters of "The 100" and _Frozen_. Yes, it's an odd combination. No, I'm not entirely insane. Just see where it goes. _Please do note that this story will include both_ _Clexa_ _and_ _Elsanna_ _, although neither is going to be sexual to the point of being smut._ If Elsanna makes you uncomfortable, I completely respect that. I'd encourage you to try the first chapter or two to see if you like the story, but if anything about this story makes you uncomfortable, then please just stop reading. I don't want to make anyone uncomfortable or upset. Life is too short for that. If you're curious as to the backstory of how Elsa and Anna realized they were in love with each other and came to terms with that, I deal with that in my other story "Feel, Don't Conceal," which you're more than welcome to read, but it's not a requirement to enjoy this story. Again, no smut or porn; that's just not really my thing, and there are several other authors who do smut much better than I can. _This first chapter is going to be mostly Clarke and Lexa, because fixing the horrible things that were done to them in 3x07 has to happen first._

 **This story begins during the events of episode 3x07 of "The 100."**

 _I do not own the television show "The 100" or make any claims upon it or its characters. Similarly, I do not own Frozen, its characters or any Disney characters or property. All these characters are used under the concept of Fair Use, and I make no profit or income from using any of them._

 **Our Fight Is Not Over**

by Jo K.

Chapter 1: Like a Bolt from the Sky

 _Is there anyone out there_

 _Somewhere I can belong_

 _Man, the city just ain't so kind tonight_

 _I need a place to take refuge_

 _See, I been lovin' you blind_

 _I guess that made it hard for me to find_

 _That we were caught up in the middle of a worn-out dream_

 _I knew we were in trouble but baby I almost screamed_

-Brandon Flowers, "Jilted Lovers and Broken Hearts"

—O—

The blackness of night did much to conceal the barren landscape around him, but neither the night nor his tightly clenched eyes could spare the young boy from the screams and cries around him. He sobbed weakly, straining once more against the ropes binding him tightly to the tree behind him, but they refused to yield. He attempted to saw them against the spruce's coarse bark, but they only slid up and down slightly, as he had already rubbed the tree's trunk raw in his attempts to break the ropes.

A weak, wet groan and cry stilled his movement as he heard another member of his family die. Most likely his mother, from the heart-wrenching cries and pleas he had been listening to for the last few minutes.

The crunching of footsteps on snow made him lift his head and open his eyes, in time to see the cloaked figure who had destroyed his life approach him once more.

"Wh-why?" the boy stammered, flinching despite his desire to not show any more fear to this heartless creature who walked like a man. "Why... did you kill them?"

The man stopped, the glint of the nearby firelight reflecting off the blade of his knife where fresh blood had yet to coat its length. Surprisingly, he sheathed the knife at his belt.

As the man stood motionless in front of him, the boy dared to look up into the blackness of the hood pulled up over his head. He thought he saw hints of a human face, a chin, possibly the outline of a nose, but the late hour and hood's shadow did a fine job of concealing any defining features.

Suddenly the man's arms moved, and the boy reflexively shied away as waited for a slash of cold metal against his throat. When no blow fell, though, he cautiously opened his eyes... then immediately wished he hadn't.

The man held forth a book, just inches away from the boy's face. Despite the bitter cold in the air, the boy swore he could smell rot and foulness, and as his gaze danced across the black, oily binding of the book's cover, his eyes began to water and burn. There was something so horrible, so _wrong_ about the tome held before his face that he began to cry again.

"This is why," spoke the man, and his voice was shockingly soft, even pleasant, had that word held anything whatsoever in common with the atrocities the boy had watched him commit in the last few hours. "Your family's suffering, your deaths, will open a portal from this world to..."

A long pause followed, then a tired sigh. "Well, to somewhere else," the man finally finished. "But that will only be the beginning of what this book holds, of the power contained within its black pages!"

And the boy began to weep for the last time, for now he knew that he would never see another sunrise.

—O—

Lexa paced nervously back and forth in her large apartment, uncharacteristically anxious and unsure of her next actions.

Clarke loved her.

 _Clarke._

 _Loved._

 _HER._

Neither of them had actually said the words yet. But Lexa had known how she herself had felt for some time. She had ignored the warnings from Gustus, from Titus, from the voices of the former Commanders, and she had allowed herself to hope, to dream that Clarke would one day return the feelings Lexa held in her heart for the girl who had fallen from the sky.

Lexa smiled to herself, a smile so shy as to seem entirely out of place on the face of the Commander of Thirteen Clans, and for a moment she looked like nothing other than a young woman in love. Even the knowledge that Clarke would be temporarily returning to Arkadia to deal with the growing menace of the new Chancellor, Pike, couldn't pull the lovesick grin off Lexa's lips.

But the gunshot ringing out in the room across the hall managed to do just that.

Lexa instantly glanced at the table where Clarke's bag and gear had been neatly packed by Lexa herself. The black grip of Clarke's pistol was just visible inside Clarke's leather bag, which sent another chill slithering down Lexa's spine. Not only was someone other than Clarke shooting inside the Tower, Clarke had no way of shooting back.

 _Clarke._

Suddenly breathless, Lexa bolted across her quarters toward Clarke's rooms as a second gunshot rang out.

—O—

As the boy breathed his last, the hooded man chanted the hissing syllables inscribed on the book's black pages, the bloody characters still glistening despite the tome's vast age.

A tearing sound that twisted the man's guts manifested in front of him, as the air itself tore and peeled back, revealing a swirling maelstrom of brilliant blue, white and silver. He paused, taking a deep breath, then he stepped into the portal—and disappeared.

—O—

Moving at a full run, Lexa's bare feet had barely touched the smooth floor of the hall when she suddenly felt a burning, ripping sensation just below her sternum, the same instant as a brilliant flash of light and images too brief to be coherent erupted _inside_ her eyes. The sensation was so unexpected and so crippling that she fell as clumsily as a toddler taking her first fighting lesson, her forward momentum sending her tumbling and crashing awkwardly into and through the door to Clarke's room, just as another gunshot roared and a hissing projectile shot through the air above her, mere centimeters over her body as she rolled into the room. Everything was happening so quickly that the guards stationed in the hall outside her door had yet to take a second step toward Clarke's room, the source of the gunshots.

She heard Titus shout her title despite the ringing in her ears, but it was the pistol in his right hand that instantly claimed her attention. She could see Clarke moving toward the two of them in her peripheral vision, and concern for the woman she loved quickened Lexa's pulse even more, leaving her heartbeat singing in her ears as she shifted her legs beneath her and drove upward, launching herself toward Titus, who seemed to be frozen in place.

Lexa's left hand twisted around Titus's right wrist, angling the gun away from her and Clarke, as her shoulder drove into Titus's chest, sending him sprawling backward. Lexa used his body to cushion her own landing as she drove Titus into the floor, never releasing her grip on his right arm and the far-too-lethal pistol. The impact of another body on Titus made Lexa turn away from the gun in time to see Clarke punch Titus's head, twisting the older man's face to his right as Clarke scrambled across his body, clawing at his fingers until the gun clattered from his grip onto the apartment's floor.

Clarke grabbed the gun and got to her knees as two of Lexa's guards finally ran into the room, spears pointed forward... and at her.

"He tried to shoot me!" Clarke cried out, causing the guards to hold their ground while she kept the gun pointed at Titus.

"You threaten Heda!" growled one guard, beginning to charge forward.

"NO!" Clarke shouted, dropping the gun in front of her as Lexa and Titus both grew still; Lexa's knee was positioned over Titus's throat, ready to crush his windpipe if necessary.

"I would never hurt her," Clarke said softly, her voice pained and raw as she sought out and met Lexa's piercing green eyes. "I..."

"Titus attempted to kill Clarke with a forbidden weapon," Lexa hissed, pressing down just a hint more with her knee as she risked looking over her left shoulder to the guards behind her. "Klark kom Skaikru would never threaten me... or hurt me," Lexa said firmly. "And you will _never_ suspect or accuse her of that again. _Is that clear?"_

"Sha, Heda!" both guards called out together, standing up more fully but keeping their spears leveled, this time in Titus's direction.

Lexa turned her head until she was looking back down at Titus. More than anything she wanted to examine Clarke, make sure the woman she loved was unharmed, but that had to wait a few more moments, regardless of what Lexa wanted personally. "Why, Titus?" Lexa said, her voice just above a whisper. "Why would you try to kill Clarke?"

As she eased the pressure on his trachea, Titus gasped deeply, trying to fill his lungs despite Lexa's weight on his chest. _"Your love weakens you, Leksa,"_ he croaked in Trigedasleng, reflexively trying to clutch at his throat but feeling Lexa's steely grip tighten on his wrists instead, keeping his arms pinned at his sides. _"With the Sky Princess dead, you would see that trying to bring Skaikru into the coalition will be the blow that fractures the coalition forever."_

Clarke had learned enough Trigedasleng to make out most of Titus's words, although not all. Still, she was fairly sure she got the intent of his words. "He's wrong, Lexa," Clarke spoke softly but confidently.

When Lexa turned her dark green gaze upon her once more, Clarke had brief visions of those emerald eyes looking up at her, filled with love and joy, looking down on her with pride and confidence, speaking so much with just their brilliant expressiveness. "Love is not weakness," Clarke continued. "It makes us brave. It gives us hope. It lifts our spirits when we're broken inside, when there's nothing else to live for." She swallowed before continuing; she could see Lexa's eyes starting to moisten, but she continued anyway. "It makes us better than who we were the day before. It motivates us to change the world, not just out of duty but out of a heartfelt desire to make things better for those we love."

She smiled, and despite the others in the room, the smile was meant only for Lexa. "For the _one_ we love."

Lexa blinked twice, but she was unable to stop the twin trails of tears from sliding down her cheeks, dripping twice onto Titus's chest. "It takes more courage to believe in love than in death," Lexa said, her voice incredibly soft.

Clarke smiled back at Lexa. "And that's exactly why you're the bravest person I've ever known," she said honestly.

Lexa closed her eyes and tightened her grip upon Titus, taking several seconds to compose herself before speaking again. "From this point forward, Klark kom Skaikru is allowed to carry her gun with her at all times, even in the Tower," Lexa said loudly.

"Heda..." braved one guard, only to freeze when Lexa uncoiled, shooting to her feet and turning to glare at the guard while placing one foot on the floor and keeping the other on Titus's sternum.

"That is NOT up for discussion!" Lexa shouted, her tone final. "Take Titus to the Deep Cell," she said coldly. "No one is to see him except for Clarke or me. He is to be bound, chained and gagged at all times."

"Sha, Heda," replied both guards crisply.

Lexa stepped off of Titus, moving to stand between him and Clarke. Surprisingly, Lexa knelt to help him up, but she kept her weight back far enough to be able to fight him should he attempt to grapple with her or flee.

"You were the closest thing I had to a father, Titus," Lexa said sadly. "But I am not a child, and I have not been one for a very long time. This mistake you've made today cannot be forgiven." She nodded to the guards, who parted to let Titus walk between them, then took position behind him as they left the room. She motioned to the next pair of guards waiting in the hall. "Find Octavia and Indra. Bring them to my quarters as soon as possible."

As they bowed and turned to leave, Lexa knelt and picked up Clarke's pistol, handing it to her. But Clarke ignored the gun and instead wrapped her arms around Lexa, embracing her fiercely.

"When you fell through that door..." Clarke whimpered beside Lexa's ear, her breathing ragged and her heart pounding. "I thought I'd lost you."

"Come," Lexa said, standing and pulling Clarke to her feet as they continued to hold each other. "I... I need—"

Clarke's lips against hers cut off her next words. They kissed hungrily, desperately; neither remembered being the one to deepen the kiss, but both were eager to oblige as their lips parted and their tongues, gently, softly touched.

"I need _you_ ," Clarke whispered against Lexa's open mouth before kissing her again.

"And I you," Lexa breathed in return, feeling her warm breath mingle with Clarke's against her lover's lips.

Without warning, Clarke leapt upward, wrapping her legs around Lexa's waist. Having felt the blonde's body tense in preparation, Lexa was ready for the sudden movement, smoothly adjusting her grip on Clarke and sliding her hands into a more secure position, her left hand now in the small of Clarke's back and her right hand beneath her buttocks as Clarke buried her face in Lexa's long mahogany hair, trying to still her racing heart with the knowledge that Lexa was still here, was still _alive_ , in her arms.

They crossed the hallway that way, ignoring the gaping stares of the quartet of guards now positioned outside their Heda's chamber. One guard recovered his wits enough to open the door for the two women, then close it behind them once they were inside.

None of the guards dared to look at another as they kept their silent vigil. Back in Clarke's room, an uncharacteristically stunned Murphy continued to stare at where the two woman had kissed, disbelief flooding his thoughts. It would take several minutes before he remembered he was still securely bound.

—O—

In a dark bedroom, cold due to the lack of a fire in the fireplace but still comfortable for the room's inhabitants, two bodies tossed and rolled on the bed they shared.

Twin girls, both thirteen years of age, struggled against the dreams which had overtaken them before one shot upward into a sitting position, her heart racing and her nightshirt wet with cold sweat. She reached beside her, finding her sister's hand on the first try and squeezing it tightly as she felt her sister roll over to look up at her.

"Do you think she understood our warning?" Elin, daughter of Arendelle's two queens asked as she turned to look down at her sister, her long, straight platinum blonde hair tousled from their fitful sleep.

Her twin sister Erin looked up at Elin, her blue-green eyes nearly black from the width of her pupils. "I think so," Erin said, her voice raspy from a dry throat. "Who was she?" Erin asked, trying to put into words how unusual their dream had been, especially the young woman with dark brown hair and green eyes much older than her age and the blonde who had suffered so much pain and loss but still possessed a spirit that blazed like a bonfire.

Elin shook her head. "I'm not sure," she said. "Not yet." She looked out their window, watching a light snow fall upon the mountains visible from their room. "But something's badly wrong," she said sadly, feeling Erin squeeze her hand in return. "We've never felt anyone like them before," Elin said nervously, shivering until Erin tugged her back down to lie beside her.

"No, we've not," Erin said, gathering her sister in a comforting embrace. She felt Elin's tears drip down onto her neck, sliding down the back of her neck onto her pillow. "We'll figure this out, El."

"We shouldn't be feeling them at all," Elin whispered, unable to stop her tears. "Should we?"

"I..." Erin fought tears herself, trying to be strong for her sister. "I don't think so," she finally said, quietly holding her sister and wishing for sleep that refused to return that night.

—O—

Clarke and Lexa simply lay on the long couch in Lexa's main room, holding each other tightly as they lay together. "Did Titus say anything else to you?" Lexa asked, her lips brushing against Clarke's blond braids as she pressed light kisses against her lover's soft hair.

"He wanted to kill me with that gun, then pin the blame on Murphy." Clarke lay with her eyes closed, savoring the feeling of Lexa's body against hers, even through their clothes. "He hoped you seeing me killed by a Skaikru with a Skaikru weapon would send you into a rage, so he could point you at Arkadia and wipe them all out."

Lexa lifted her eyebrow slightly, unable to prevent a slight smile from crossing her lips at hearing Clarke refer to the former Ark's inhabitants as a very distinct _them_. "Interesting," she mumbled, but her close proximity to Clarke's ear allowed Clarke to hear even that soft whisper.

"What's interesting?" Clarke asked. She shouldn't be feeling so happy, especially after someone tried to _assassinate_ her, here in the middle of Lexa's tower where they were supposed to be safe. But she was unable to stop smiling due to the presence of the fierce, proud, brave, loving woman who had slowly grown to fill—and begin to heal—the shattered mess of Clarke's heart.

"Who is Murphy?" asked Lexa abruptly.

Clarke caught the change of subject but decided to let it pass. "I completely forgot about him. He's tied up in my room," she said.

"Now?" asked Lexa, surprised. She lifted her head up to look into Clarke's blue eyes. She had been so focused on Titus, then on Clarke, that she hadn't even registered the presence of anyone else in Clarke's chambers.

Clarke nodded slightly. "I guess Titus had him captured. He's... complicated."

"So he is dangerous."

After a pause, Clarke nodded. "Yeah, he is. He's done some good things, but he's done a lot of bad too." She turned her head to look into Lexa's eyes, pausing to lightly kiss the tip of Lexa's nose, getting a smile and soft laugh from the brunette. "You remember Raven?"

"The one who can fix things?" Lexa asked, still enjoying the fluttering sensation from the feel of Clarke's lips on her nose. "Whose leg is crippled?"

Clarke nodded. "Murphy crippled her. He shot her, and the bullet damaged the nerves to her left leg." She left out Murphy being with Finn at the village when eighteen Trikru were killed. While Murphy hadn't helped Finn in his brutality, he hadn't stopped him, either. But those wounds were still healing for both her and Lexa, and Clarke didn't want to bring any of that painful episode back up ever again.

Lexa nodded gently. "Dangerous indeed. It would have been easy to believe he could have killed you."

"Yeah," Clarke said softly. She lifted her head enough to look into Lexa's green eyes. "Would you have done it?" she asked, part of her dreading the answer and the rest of her dreading her own reaction to what Lexa was about to say. "Killed all of them, if you thought they had sent Murphy to kill me?"

Lexa looked into Clarke's blue-gray eyes, a soul stripped bare staring at another just as naked and vulnerable at that terrifying thought. "Yes," she breathed slowly, terrified at Clarke's potential response but unable to lie to the woman who had claimed her heart. "I would have killed them all."

Neither of them moved for several seconds as they stared into each other's eyes. Then Clarke leaned forward, slowly, never breaking eye contact with Lexa, until their lips touched. Only then did the two of them close their eyes and relax into the kiss, breathing into and with each other as they tightened their grip on each other, shifting slightly on the wide couch as they continued to kiss intensely. Finally Clarke broke for air, only raising her head a few millimeters, still close enough to feel the heat of Lexa's lips on her own.

"I would have forgiven you," whispered Clarke, her eyes reddening with swelling tears. "Because if Titus had killed you back there, I'd have burned this whole fucking tower to the ground."

Lexa smiled sadly before lifting her head to capture Clarke's tears with his lips, first Clarke's left cheek, then her right, pressing so tenderly and softly against Clarke's skin that she had no words for how to describe Lexa's gentleness. Lexa licked her lips as she relaxed her neck, tasting the saltiness of Clarke's tears as she looked into her love's blue eyes. "And they say _I'm_ the dangerous one," Lexa teased softly, making Clarke smile, a sight so beautiful that it was Lexa's turn to have no words to capture the sheer radiance of that simple sight.

"Well, they _do_ call me Wanheda," replied Clarke, still smiling. "But you can call me something else."

"And what's that?" asked Lexa, under to keep herself herself from grinning like an eager young girl as she gently pushed one of Clarke's blonde braids behind her left ear.

Clarke leaned forward, her eyes briefly dancing as she stared intensely into Lexa's eyes. "Yours," she said softly, smiling as she saw Lexa's eyes light up. "And the woman who loves you," she whispered, smiling once more before kissing Lexa again.

Lexa pulled back slightly, prompting Clark to stop. "What is it?" Clarke asked.

"It's not..." Lexa said, swallowing tightly as she looked slightly embarrassed. "It's not... our way to..."

Clarke pressed her thumbs gently against Lexa's lips. "You don't have to say it with words," Clarke whispered, trying to convey with her eyes that she truly understood. "You've said it so many times in so many ways already," she murmured, feeling her own tears begin to slide down her cheeks. "I was just a fool for making you wait, and I'm sorry for that."

"You needed time," Lexa answered calmly. "And I understood that."

"Better than I did, apparently," replied Clarke.

Lexa placed a soft kiss on Clarke's forehead. "Apparently," she agreed pleasantly.

Voices outside drew the attention of both women, interrupting them as their lips brushed again.

"I need to use the toilet before we speak to them," Lexa said, not wanting to release her hold on Clarke. "There will be much that needs to be done because of Titus's actions tonight."

Clarke nodded, then grinned as she claimed another quick kiss from her lover. "Go pee," she said, pushing herself up and off of the couch, then extending an arm to help Lexa to her feet as well.

As she gracefully stood, Lexa matched Clarke's smile with a sly grin that made Clarke's heart toss abruptly. "I will try to... _pee_... quickly," Lexa said softly, holding Clarke's gaze for several seconds as she walked backward, finally turning to hurry to the bathroom before the burning flush on her cheeks became too obvious.

As the doors to Lexa's chambers opened, Octavia and Indra both entered. Clarke noticed that Indra looked disheveled, almost unkempt; as soon as she realized Clarke was examining her, the older woman straightened up and flashed an angry scowl toward the blonde.

Clarke rolled her eyes at Indra's reflexive show of bluster, stepping forward to take Octavia's right arm as the guards closed the doors behind the two. "Clarke, what's—" Octavia started, only to be cut off by Clarke jerking her forward toward the parlor, away from the master bedroom and bathroom where Lexa had gone.

As they entered the side room, Clarke yanked the hanging curtains sufficing as a door closed, catching a baffled look on Indra's face with no small amount of amusement.

"Okay, what's going on?" Octavia said, confused. "We were getting ready to leave when this guard tells us we had to come with him _right freaking now_ , and he wouldn't tell us an—"

"Titus tried to kill Lexa," Clarke said quickly, keeping her voice low.

" _What?!"_

Clarke nodded vigorously. "Lexa's alright. In fact, she's perfect. _God_ , she's—" She shook her head. "That's not important right now."

"What?" replied Octavia, her voice likewise subdued but shocked. "Clarke, you just said—"

"O!" Clarke said, shaking Octavia once to stop her talking. "Have you and Lincoln talked about getting married?"

Octavia blinked twice, then straightened up. "Well, _that's_ a bit of a personal question, don't you think?" she replied, putting her hands on her hips.

Clarke sighed, blowing air upward through her clenched lips and sending a few of her braids swaying. "Has he talked to you about how Trikru handles the whole process?"

"Why do you want to know, anyway?" Octavia asked, lowering her voice again. "It's not like _you're_ going to be..." She trailed off as her mind fit the pieces into place. "Oh. _OH."_ She leaned forward and whispered, " _Lexa?_ Geez, Clarke, you set your sights high, don't you?"

Clarke's face darkened. "I'm serious, O," she hissed. "Has he talked to you about it or not?"

"I guess it's not that surprising, though. I mean, the sexual tension between you two has been ridic—"

" _O!"_ Clarke hissed.

"Okay, okay, I'll stop." Octavia looked closely at Clarke, thinking about how healthy Clarke looked. At how _happy_ she looked. "Does Heda know?" she asked. "How you feel about her?"

Clarke nodded, and she couldn't help but smile. "She does."

"And she feels the same way about you?" Octavia asked, getting another nod. "Have you two..."

Clarke threw her hands up in the air. "Never mind! I'll ask Lincoln," she said, turning to leave the room they were in until Octavia grabbed her arm.

"I'm sorry," Octavia said, softly but sincerely. "It's just... a bit much to process, you know?"

Clarke nodded once again. "I know. Believe me, I know."

"And... marriage? Don't you think you might be moving a bit fast, Clarke?" Octavia asked gently.

"Why?" Clarke shot back, quickly but not entirely angrily. "Because of how much time we have down here on the ground?" She held Octavia's worried gaze before continuing, "Octavia, you know all too well how quickly things can happen. How any one of us can die on any day." Clarke blinked, and suddenly she was hotly wiping at the tears running down her face without warning.

"Clarke, I'm sorry," Octavia said, stepping forward but uncertain what to do with her hands. "I didn't mean—"

"I almost _lost_ her today, O!" Clarke groaned, anguish entwined in her words. "When Titus was shooting at me, and she came crashing through that door, I thought..." Clarke stopped, unable to speak coherently as she began to sob quietly.

"Hey," Octavia said, opening her arms and stepping forward to gather Clarke into a friendly hug. "She's okay, Clarke, that's what you said, right?"

Clarke nodded against Octavia's shoulder, her eyes clenched tightly shut. "And I made her wait _so long_ , all because I wasn't sure if I was ready yet," she mumbled, more to herself than to her friend.

Octavia sighed, then took a deep breath. "There really isn't much ceremony to it," she said. "If two people want to officially be recognized as _houmon_ , then they make pledges of loyalty and devotion to each other, usually in front of their village. Once they both acc—"

"Wait," Clarke said, pulling back so she could look into Octavia's eyes. "Pledges of loyalty?"

The dark-haired girl nodded, the loose ends of her dark braids swaying with the movement.

Clarke felt her breath catch in her throat, and it suddenly took great effort to put a string of just a few words together. "Like... swearing to put someone first... above everyone else?" she managed to ask. "And... bowing, maybe, while saying it?"

Octavia nodded again. "Yeah, that's about it."

"Oh God," Clarke swore softly, and now the tears flowed freely again. "I was so stupid," she muttered to herself. "I didn't know..." trailing off as she thought back to a few nights ago, a tender moment in Lexa's room that now seemed much more important. She jerked, directing her gaze back to Octavia again. "Thank you, Octavia," Clarke said, seemingly not fazed by the trails of tears from her reddened eyes tracing their way down her cheeks. She hugged her friend again, then quickly released her, wiped at her eyes and walked toward the doorway, leaving Octavia standing there with confusion still etched across her face.

When Clarke slid the curtain aside, revealing a face glistening with newly-shed tears and eyes red, Lexa immediately feared the worst. "Clarke!" she said, cutting off her discussion with Indra and stepping forward quickly to meet the blonde. She quickly looked Clarke up and down, gently grasping Clarke's upper arms to support her lover in case she had been injured.

"I didn't understand," Clarke said quickly, reaching up to cup Lexa's cheeks in her hands, a gesture of affection that made Indra audibly gasp and Octavia freeze in the doorway from the parlor. "I didn't realize what that meant the other night, you bowing before me, not until now," Clarke whispered, smiling despite the sting in her eyes and the salty taste of tears in her mouth. She watched as Lexa blinked several times, with wetness accumulating in the brunette's light green eyes as well.

"You were proposing to me," Clarke breathed out. "And I didn't realize it."

"You weren't expected to know, Clarke," Lexa said, and the longing and heartache in her voice at that moment made Clarke's eyes close in shame.

"How long would you have waited?" Clarke asked, unable to look into the eyes of this brave, intelligent, patient, considerate, _loving_ woman standing in front of her. "For me to figure it out?"

Lexa drew in a shaky breath. "Forever," she confessed. "Because you would have been worth it."

Clarke shook her head. "I don't deserve you," she whispered.

Lexa placed her hands on Clarke's jaw and softly tilted Clarke's head up, waiting patiently until she saw the blonde's blue eyes blink open. "Yes, you do," Lexa said lovingly. "You deserve to be happy, Klark kom Skaikru. You deserve someone who loves you and who would do anything for you, because that is _exactly_ what you do for those whom you care about. You are merciful, you are considerate, you are brave and strong, and you have shown us _all_ a better way to live our lives."

Clarke swallowed, then she slowly knelt, ignoring the noises of surprise coming from Indra and Octavia. She looked up at Lexa, who now had a hand covering her open mouth and full tears in her eyes; Clarke slowly reached up, waiting until Lexa placed both of her hands into Clarke's own hands. "I swear my life to you, Leksa kom Trikru," she said clearly, her voice shaky but distinct. "I will put you first before all others. I will love, protect and care for you forever. I will never betray you and will always be there for you. Please let me be yours, as your wife... as your _houmon_."

With Clarke's words still ringing and echoing in her mind, Lexa knelt in front of Clarke, just inches away from the woman who had become the most important force in her life, much to the chagrin of the Commander spirit that buzzed in the back of her head. "Yes, Klark kom Skaikru," she said, grinning through the tears dripping from her face onto the hard floor. "I take you as my houmon, as I give myself to you as yours." She kept looking into Clarke's blue eyes as she said in Trigedasleng, _"No longer will we fight alone, for from today and for every day to come, we now fight together."_

As soon as Lexa finished speaking, Clarke released her hands and grabbed Lexa by the sides of her head as they leaned forward and kissed slowly and tenderly. "Please tell me what you said at the end," she whispered against Lexa's lips before kissing her again. "Because if you just said that I have to make the bed every day, it might—"

The sound of Lexa laughing, deeply, _freely,_ resonated through Clarke's body like warmth from a fire, only much, much faster.

Lexa smiled at Clarke as they continued to kneel before each other. "I said that we will no longer fight alone, because from today onward we fight together, as one," Lexa said, pressing her forehead against Clarke's as they continued to watch each other intensely, as if one of them might disappear at any moment were the other to let her eyes rest on anything else.

"Will you teach me Trigedasleng? Please?"

Lexa nodded. "Sha," she spoke softly. "I will."

Clarke smiled. "Good, because I want to be able to tell you how beautiful you are in your own language when we make love," she said, her voice thick with emotion but still rendering Lexa incapable of forming words before they kissed again.

"Heda..." Indra finally spoke, her voice shaky and uncertain. "What have you _done?"_ she whispered, her voice nearly pleading.

Lexa rolled her eyes with surprising smoothness, making Clarke briefly sputter with laughter, a joyful noise which made Lexa smile even more beautifully. "I learned that from you," Lexa whispered, savoring each second of this moment with Clarke. "My...?" she looked at Clarke, wanting to make sure she used the correct word.

"Wife," Clarke said. "That's the word we use for a female spouse. Although houmon works perfectly fine, too."

"Are marriage ceremonies more elaborate for the Sky People?" Lexa asked, her curiosity evident in the twinkle of her light green eyes. "Should we have a ceremony for them as well?"

"Don't give my mom any ideas," Clarke said, only half teasing. She could look at Lexa's stunning face all day, draw her a million times, and she could never come close to capturing just how captivatingly beautiful her wife was.

Her _wife_.

Clarke leaned forward and embraced Lexa, burying her face against the warm skin of Lexa's neck. "I don't care how much shit anyone gives us," she whispered against Lexa. "I love you, and I'm going to be with you no matter what."

Lexa closed her eyes and basked in the feeling of Clarke's arms around her, Clarke's breath against her neck, Clarke's scent with hints of paint, graphite and warm, clean bed linens. "We make each other better together," Lexa said softly. "You understand the sacrifices and terrible burdens of being a leader, how it scars the soul and tortures the mind. But now we can share more than just suffering and the weight of duty, Clarke." Lexa breathed in deeply, rubbing her right hand softly on Clarke's back. "Now we can share happiness and joy as well."

"Heda..." whispered someone from outside of their embrace, and the interruption vexed Lexa notably. Her eyes snapped open, turning her head just enough to pin Indra in a furious glare.

"Choose your words carefully, Indra," Lexa said, her voice just above a growl. "This is a joyous day for Clarke and for me, and I do not want to ruin the mood by having you beaten for insolence."

Indra swallowed; slowly her sense of self-preservation was beginning to return after being properly shamed by Octavia's words earlier that day, and at this moment she truly did fear for her life were she to upset her Heda on her joining day. "I... did not mean any disrespect, Heda, either to you or your houmon," she said carefully.

"An excellent start," Lexa spoke, her voice clipped despite the thrill of hearing Clarke officially recognized as her mate. "Continue."

"No Heda has ever taken a houmon before," the older woman continued, her voice carrying hints of trepidation, possibly even fear.

"No Heda has lived or ruled as long I have," Lexa replied firmly. "No Heda has ever presided over a period of peace as long I have."

Clarke's movement drew Lexa's attention back to her wife; she made a point to ease the tension in her voice for the woman she loved. "What it is, Clarke?"

"How long does a Heda usually... reign, I guess?" Clarke asked, dreading the answer but knowing she had to know.

"Usually a year or two," Lexa replied softly. "Almost never more than three, and usually less than two."

"And... how long have you been Heda?" asked Clarke, her eyes searching Lexa's own.

Lexa swallowed. "Eight years. I was twelve at the time of my Conclave."

Clarke closed her eyes, trying to picture a twelve-year-old Lexa, already far too serious for her age, wearing a full set of armor and bearing a sword... and then killing the rest of the Nightbloods in her class, a cruel test intended to scourge any remaining compassion or mercy from Heda's chosen host, as well as to remove any potential challengers to the position.

"What will the Council of Twe—" Indra stopped at twin glares from Lexa and Clarke. "What will the Council of _Thirteen_ think of you taking a mate?"

"Well, I'll tell you right now that Skaikru is going to be all for it," Clarke said deadpan, maintaining a straight face until she heard Octavia snort behind her. Then she broke into giggles and laughter, which prompted Octavia to do the same. Clarke actually went partially limp with pent-up emotion, boiling over in an attempt to vent itself all at once, but Lexa easily held her up until the blonde could regain her strength.

Lexa smiled but was able to control her mirth. She turned to look at Indra again. "I will inform the Council tonight at a special meeting."

"This could set a dangerous precedent, Heda."

"And what dangerous precedent is that, Indra?" Lexa snapped at her general. "Uniting the clans? Achieving a peace across our entire region? Forming an alliance with people who fell from the sky? Rescuing our people from the Mountain? Surviving an assassination attempt, carried out by our Flamekeeper no less?"

Marshaling what she could of her resolve under Lexa's withering glare, Indra lifted her head and said, "The precedent of a life beyond that of Heda." She held Lexa's gaze and refused to back down. "When one has something to live for, it can be difficult to make decisions which might jeopardize that."

"I understand your concern, Indra," replied Lexa, easing the tone of her voice slightly. It was a valid concern, and Lexa had known Indra long enough to realize that she wasn't bringing this to her attention out of spite, maliciousness or pettiness. Or jealousy, for that matter. "But Clarke and I have both been dealing with that risk for quite some time already."

Clarke nodded quietly. "I won't make you have to choose between me and our people, Lexa," she said. "Skaikru joining the Coalition as the thirteenth clan already united our people. Our joining, our marriage only makes the union of our people even stronger."

Lexa held Clarke's gaze a bit longer, then she reluctantly turned to look at Octavia, then Indra. "Both of you get cleaned up. You will be present at the emergency council meeting tonight. Oktevia, assist Indra, since she is still recovering from her recent injuries."

"Sha, Heda," Octavia replied, bowing her head slightly; she was also exceedingly grateful for Lexa wording the request the way she did, so she wouldn't have to argue with Indra about her needing help for the time being.

"When the council arrives, tell them that Clarke and I will be there momentarily," Lexa said to Indra. "Do not say anything else. My houmon and I will inform the council of our joining in person. Also send for Titus's Second, as I will need to speak with him before the meeting."

Indra nodded, but she did not turn to leave. After several seconds she limped forward; Octavia moved to help her, but a quick gesture and hiss from the older woman stopped Octavia in her tracks. Lexa and Clarke both turned to face Indra, leaving their joint embrace to instead simply hold hands as they watched Indra slowly make her way toward them, finally stopping just a foot away from them.

Indra looked Clarke over carefully, not visibly sneering but clearly not happy with what she saw. However, where the older woman's scrutiny might have upset Clarke just a few months ago, she had been through far, far too much to let something so trivial as someone's disapproval bother her now. She met Indra's condescending look with a quiet confidence that refused to waver, even politely smiling in the face of the general's attempt to intimidate her.

"You're not going to rattle me, Indra," Clarke said calmly. She leaned forward slightly and added, "You might be one of our generals, but you should remember that _I_ am Wanheda." Seeing the flash of fear in Indra's eyes at the mention of the cursed title, Clarke allowed her smile to turn cold and her voice to drop to a lower register. "The Mountain couldn't beat me or break me. What chance do you really think _you_ have?"

Lexa smiled as she watched her mate assert her strength and inner power. Clarke had been overlooked and underestimated by many people since she had met the princess from the sky, and most of those who had mistakenly dismissed her houmon were now dead. It was time Clarke received the recognition and respect she deserved, that she had _earned_ through her leadership and resolve.

Indra finally looked away from Clarke's steady gaze, only to find a nearly identical expression on Lexa's face as well. "I wish you happiness on your joining day, Heda," Indra finally said. She glanced at Clarke and added, "And to you as well, Wanheda."

"Thank you, Indra," Lexa replied coolly, while Clarke simply remained silent, only acknowledging Indra's words with a simple nod. "You and Octavia may go."

As the unlikely pair of first and second left Lexa's chambers, Clarke kept her eyes on the doors as they closed. "Well, that was fun," she muttered quietly.

"I do understand sarcasm," Lexa said, turning to look at Clarke once more, her eyes softening at the sight of her mate. "I just prefer not to use it. Threats tend to work much better when not veiled in something else."

Clarke lifted her hands to clasp them behind Lexa's neck, gently rubbing the slightly raised scar she had felt earlier that day. "And that's one of the reasons I love you," she said. "You always say what you mean."

"Not always," Lexa said, her voice dropping to a whisper as her eyes dropped to the floor. She gathered her courage, then looked back up into blue eyes that now showed concern. "I... love you," she said softly, her body shivering involuntarily at the sight of Clarke's eyes widening and filling with tears once more. "I love you, Clarke," she said again, and the force of Clarke's lips slamming into her own knocked her a step backward.

"Say it again, please," Clarke murmured against her lips, unable to stop her heart from hammering in her chest.

"I love you, Clarke," Lexa whispered, kissing her new wife over and over again until Clarke's fingers gently stopped her.

Clarke looked into Lexa's eyes and smiled before tenderly saying, "Ai hod yu in, Leksa."

Lexa blinked twice, surprised at Clarke's knowledge of that particular Trigedasleng phrase. "How..."

Clarke pushed Lexa's long, dark hair to the side, taking a moment to admire the brunette's natural beauty once more, something she decided she would never get tired of doing. "I wanted to be able to tell you how I felt in your own language, should this day ever come for us."

"You continue to surprise me, Klark kom Skaikru," Lexa said quietly, holding her wife tightly and breathing in Clarke's scent, her warmth, her love as she gathered her courage. "There are some things that I will need to tell you tonight, Clarke, things that you will need to know, and... I do not know how you will take them."

Sensing Lexa tensing up, Clarke blinked her eyes open, fearing some horrible surprise, some piece of bad news that would mar this otherwise amazing, wonderful day. "Is it... something bad?" she asked hesitantly.

"No," Lexa said, pulling back to look into Clarke's eyes and reassure her mate. "No, not bad at all, I swear to you," she said earnestly. "Just... things that most people do not know and will never know. About the Heda." She swallowed, understanding that she was about to reveal some of her people's greatest secrets to a woman who had been at war with them less than a year ago.

But this was Clarke, whom Lexa trusted entirely. Titus was no longer trustworthy, and his Second was too young to take on an apprentice just yet. Someone else had to know their mythology, their secrets, and what had to be done, in case anything happened to Lexa or the new Flamekeeper. Lexa stared into Clarke's eyes, then whispered, "I trust you with everything I am, Clarke. With everything I have."

"And I feel the same way, Lexa," Clarke replied. "I will never betray your trust or betray you."

Lexa nodded. "I am sor—"

Clarke's fingertips on her lips stopped Lexa's words. "Please don't apologize again," she said warmly. "You don't need to, and I didn't mean to imply anything of the sort with what I said." She smiled. "I know you would never betray me now."

"Never again," Lexa agreed, her voice a pained whisper. "Now our people are one."

Clarke smiled and leaned into Lexa's body again. "As are we," she said happily.

Lexa nodded simply. "For this life and all that comes after it. I will never let you go, Klark kom Skaikru."

"I'm going to hold you to that promise, Leksa kom Trikru. Or you'll have an angry Wanheda on your ass."

—O—

A world away, a hesitant knock resonated through the bedchambers of the Queens of Arendelle.

The initial reply to the annoying noise was a nonsensical grumble from the redhead currently occupying over half of the large bed, including the sleeping figure of the pale blonde beneath the redhead's lightly freckled body. The second response to the persistent knock was a fluffy pillow thrown awkwardly at the door, falling quite short of its target and striking the floor with a weak _puff_.

When the knock rang out a third time, significantly louder, the platinum blonde hair of Queen Elsa finally shifted as the Winter Queen sighed and began to disentangle herself from her wife Anna's grabby limbs. "I'm coming, I'm coming," Elsa called out, not worried about waking Anna. It would take considerably more to fully wake the Summer Queen, or at least a different approach, Elsa thought with a smile as she created a long silver robe around her as she walked to the double doors of their chambers.

"What is it?" Elsa asked as she reached the doors, not dissolving the ice holding the doors closed just yet.

"My apologies, Your Majesty, but something has come up which requires your attention immediately," came the voice of their personal assistant, Hilde.

"Is everything fine, Hilde?" Elsa asked, lifting her right hand but not using her magic just yet.

"All is right in Arendelle, Your Majesty," replied the young woman, using the code which indicated that nothing was amiss.

Elsa waved her hand, dissolving the locking seal of ice around and between the doors, then depressed the latch to open the right door. "What is it, Hilde?" she asked, concern growing in her heart. "Is Arista alright?"

Hilde quickly nodded. "She is, Your Majesty, and thank you for asking. In fact, she's already left the castle to see things for herself, but I thought you and Queen Anna would want to be made aware of this immediately."

"Of course," Elsa said, stepping aside to let Hilde into the room then closing the door behind them, restoring the icy barrier once the doors were closed. One assassination attempt several years ago in her and Anna's bedroom was more than enough to instill caution in both of Arendelle's monarchs.

"Elsaaa..." moaned a sleepy voice from the bed behind Elsa. "I'm cold."

"You don't get cold," Elsa said over her shoulder, unable to keep from smiling at how much she loved Anna.

"I'm lonely."

"I'm right here, Anna. Hilde has something important to tell us."

"I'm sleepy."

"Then sit up. You'll remember things better that way."

Elsa began to relax when she heard no further complaints from Anna... until she saw Hilde look over her shoulder toward the bed and their assistant's eyes grow startlingly wide.

Elsa quickly lifted a hand to cover Hilde's eyes while flinging her other hand behind her, using her magic to create a short nightshirt for Anna. "Anna!" she said quickly. "That was rude!" Turning, she saw Anna yawning, her arms stretched toward the high ceiling; she imagined Anna had inadvertently given Hilde quite a show just then.

"Sorry," mumbled Anna. "Didn't realize anyone was here." She rubbed sleepily at her eyes, ignoring the chaotic mane of coppery hair floating around her head.

"I told you she was here," Elsa said patiently, finally lowering her hand from shielding Hilde's eyes. "It's not my fault you didn't listen. Now if you can stop scandalizing our friend, maybe she can tell us what's so important that Arista had to leave in the middle of the night to investigate."

 _That_ particular fact succeeded in getting Anna's full attention. Anna slid out of their bed, yawning once more but covering her mouth with her right hand as she walked toward Elsa and Hilde, the conjured nightshirt just barely falling to mid-thigh on her. 

"There have been reports," Hilde began, "of something awful happening to a family in the southeast of Arendelle..."

—O—

After a few seconds of disorientation, the hooded man realized that he stood once again ankle deep in snow, with a spitting cold wind swirling all around him. But as he looked around, he realized the snow was different, more grainy and irritating, and the mountain peaks were entirely wrong from what he seen the last few hours while he had labored on his vile ritual.

"It worked," he said to himself, grinning evilly as he took stock of his new surroundings.

Despite the limited protection from the cold granted him by possession of the eldritch tome, he hurried toward the nearest settlement; he could feel the pull of even a handful of lives when contrasted to the odd barrenness of this new world, giving him a beacon to pursue.

As he arrived on the outskirts of the tiny village, he hid in the barren treeline for several hours, until he was certain no one was keeping a vigil in this weather and this late at night. Then he merely had to wait a bit longer, until a single man left the shelter of a small hut seeking to relieve himself.

It was a simple matter to approach him undetected from downwind in the storm, but when he stabbed the man in the back, the hardy man refused to go down without a fight, turning and landing a fierce blow to the cloaked man's jaw. But a second slash of the knife, this time to his throat, stilled the larger man, and the cloaked man was upon his victim even as he sank into the snow.

"Shhh," he whispered despite the howling storm as he pressed one hand to the man's throat to momentarily slow the bleeding, then his other hand to the dying man's forehead. "You're going to share with me everything you know as you die," he said, knowing that his words couldn't possibly be understood by the dying man.

Not yet.

As the man's life left him, his recent memories flooded into his cloaked assailant's mind, thanks to a few whispered words of a dark language never meant to be uttered by humans. The man's name, his thoughts, his language, they all flowed into the consciousness of the hooded man, who gasped with the painful sensation of draining his victim's psyche.

After several seconds the cloaked man threw his head back, dropping his hood and revealing a head full of thick auburn hair marked by prominent sideburns, a clean-shaven face, and green eyes with speckles of black in their irises, gleaming with excitement and more than a touch of insanity.

Despite the biting wind, he laughed quietly at the irony of his situation. "The _Ice_ Nation?!" he said, dark humor lacing his words. "The more things change..."

—O—

 **Author's Afterword:** So this chapter is pretty much Clexa. That needed to happen first, for many reasons. Next chapter will start to have more of a balance between our two main protagonist couples. This story's theme is going to be quite serious, much more in line with The 100 rather than Frozen, but I'm telling you a few things up front: There will be no stray bullets taking the lives of any lesbian characters, Lexa and Clarke are going to get some much-deserved happiness, and I love happy endings. Make of those statements what you will.

Do be aware that I update very slowly, simply because I write long chapters, proof them several times before posting and try to ensure very high quality work before I post. As such, I usually update about once or twice a month, so please be forewarned of that. If typos do slip through, I usually will have them corrected within a few days. I hope you enjoy this story and stick around for the ride!


	2. Chapter 2: Consequences

**Author's Note:** This chapter is bringing a third couple into this story, because right now Monroe and Harper need some love too.

Just so everyone knows, I was taking a break from finishing up this chapter, looking at some Clexa gifs on tumblr and trying not to cry, when my winamp decides to blindside me with Faith Hill's "Breathe." I lost it. Dammit.

Cover Art for the story is from the LexaRecovery tumblr.

 _I do not own the television show "The 100" or make any claims upon it or its characters. If I did, I would treat them with more respect. Similarly, I do not own Frozen, its characters or any Disney characters or property. All these characters are used under the concept of Fair Use, and I make no profit or income from using any of them._

 **Our Fight Is Not Over**

by Jo K.

Chapter 2: Consequences

 _So you've been broken and you've been hurt_

 _Show me somebody who ain't_

 _Yeah I know I ain't nobody's bargain_

 _But hell, a little touch up and a little paint..._

 _You might need something to hold onto_

 _When all the answers, they don't amount to much_

 _Somebody that you could just talk to_

 _And a little of that human touch_

-Bruce Springsteen, "Human Touch"

—O—

The restless movement and muttering voices both ceased as the doors to the council chamber opened, admitting Lexa, now wearing her full armor and ceremonial gear, her red mini-cape streaming off her left shoulder and swaying as she walked, and Clarke, wearing dark gray pants, a matching shirt and one of Lexa's black leather jackets as they walked in side by side.

All eyes watched the two of them as Clarke walked past her previous seat with the other representatives of the clans, instead stepping up onto the dais holding Lexa's throne and standing to Lexa's left, on the same side as her previous seat. Heads turned back and forth, but Lexa's voice stopped any discussion before it could start.

"This emergency meeting of the Council of Thirteen Clans is now open," she spoke, with a tone that resonated with authority. "There are two main reasons why I have summoned you tonight." She looked around the room, meeting each clan representative's eyes as she did so. "First, just a short time ago, Titus, one of my most senior advisers, tried to kill Klark kom Skaikru and me, using a forbidden weapon."

 _Now_ the voices surged to life around the room. Lexa smiled, and it was a smile as different from the smiles she shared with Clarke as night was from day. This smile was cold, cutting and hard as the steel of her sword. "Heda and Wanheda are not so easily killed," she said slowly. "Regardless of his years of service to Heda, there can be no forgiveness for Titus's offense. His sentence will be carried out in a few minutes in the plaza in front of the tower."

Lexa looked up to Octavia and Indra, who were standing at the doors to the council chamber. "Indra kom Trikru and Oktevia kom Trikru," Lexa said firmly. "Take six guards and escort Titus from the Deep Cell to the pole. We will be there in a few minutes to carry out his sentence. No one is to start without us."

"Sha, Heda," both Indra and Octavia replied, with nods, before turning and leaving the room.

Lexa waited until the doors were closed, then she carefully took a steadying breath. "The second matter is an announcement, rather than an emergency. While it is not the council's business, I would like it to be known that I have taken Klark kom Skaikru as my houmon."

The eruption of the council chamber was quite impressive, although to their credit none of the representatives made any threatening movements toward the dais. That did not stop Lexa from smoothly turning and yanking one of the spears out of the throne's back. All the weapons hidden in the Heda's throne were carefully maintained and well-sharpened, and everyone in the room knew it. She gripped it in preparation for throwing it, which almost immediately plunged the room into stillness and silence once more. She swept her gaze around the room, and now her expression was a withering glare, daring anyone present to challenge her.

Clarke subtly drew her pistol, keeping it and her left hand at her side. All eyes were on Lexa except for Clarke's; she was too busy trying to analyze those behind the representatives, looking for any suspicious movement or flashes of metal that could indicate a drawn blade.

When Lexa audibly _growled_ , Clarke felt a surge of adrenaline jolt through her body that seemed rather inappropriate, mostly for the way it triggered an intense desire for her mate. It took all of her willpower to push those desires deep inside, staying focused on the potentially deadly situation currently at hand. One particular man on the right side of the room drew her attention; he was subtly moving toward the front of the small crowd on his side of the room, with one hand visible and the other unable to be seen currently.

" _I AM HEDA!"_ Lexa shouted, so loudly that several people in the room visibly winced or flinched. "How _DARE_ you question my actions!"

Clarke looked to the guard closest to her left long enough to catch his eye, then she returned her vision to the suspicious man now hovering just at the edge of the ambassadors. "That one," Clarke said to the guard, using her right hand to point to the man.

Instantly the guard rushed past Clarke, spear leveled as he closed with the man, who appeared startled and attempted to retreat when he realized the guard was approaching him. However, the people behind him refused to let him through, and when the ambassadors in front of him parted to let the guard through, the shine of a knife was easily seen in his right hand. The man lifted his arm to throw the knife at either Lexa or Clarke, but the guard's spear slashed out and up, catching the man's forearm and severing enough tendons to send the knife clattering to the floor.

As another guard stepped forward, the first guard turned back to Clarke, meeting her gaze long enough to nod formally. Clarke returned the nod and smiled at him in return. It only then struck her that he had not hesitated in the least with obeying her order.

" _Enough!"_ shouted Lexa.

She continued to quite visibly look around the room, while Clarke did the same, albeit more subtly. "Several of you have, over the last few months, made... _suggestions_ to me," Lexa said coolly.

Clarke turned to look at Lexa, registering the distaste she could sense in her mate's words.

" _Suggestions_ about Wanheda, and about 'claiming' Wanheda's power before someone else could do so." Lexa said in the same icy voice. "I made it quite clear to each of you then that no one was to harm Wanheda or attempt to claim her power." Lexa took a deep breath before she continued.

"Wanheda—Clarke—suffered much when she defeated the Mountain. She sacrificed more than any of you know." Lexa sighed and shifted her grip on the spear from a throwing position to a grip better suited for close combat. "Some of you still look at Clarke and dismiss her. You think her soft, or weak, because she grew up in the sky instead of here on the ground." Lexa turned to look at Clarke, staring proudly at the blonde's beautiful face for several seconds before she extended her left hand toward Clarke, who stepped forward to take it, lacing their fingers together.

Lexa smiled warmly at her wife before turning to regard the council and their seconds once more. "Clarke is the bravest, strongest person I have ever known in my life," Lexa said firmly, looking around the room once more.

"Ramius," Lexa said, looking at the ambassador from the Rivers Clan. "I have seen you take a force of twenty warriors and hold a village against an attacking force over a hundred strong," she said, smiling when the massive man smiled and stood a bit more proudly. "Your bravery is unquestionable. But I have watched Clarke march into an army numbering over _two thousand_ , alone and unarmed, to demand to negotiate with me regarding her people."

She looked to another council representative, a slight woman with dark skin, a weathered face and inquisitive hazel eyes. "Niobe," she said. "You and the Lake People killed a pack of eight reapers when they attacked your village, saving dozens of Podakru with your actions. Because of you, Reaper attacks dropped sharply in your region. But thanks to Clarke, we were able to _save_ Reapers, not just kill them, bringing back ones we had thought lost to us forever."

Lexa once more looked around the room, squeezing Clarke's hand as she did so, drawing strength from that contact with the woman she loved. "When one of Skaikru killed eighteen villagers, it was Clarke herself who killed him." Before anyone else could object, Lexa raised the spear in her right hand. _"Yes,_ she granted the murderer mercy, which was not our way. But it was _her_ way. She risked taking his place at the pole of punishment, yet she stood to her principles and did what she thought was right. And when we returned to that village to inform them that the murderer had been executed, it was Clarke who spoke the blessing for the dead and lit the fire to free their souls.

"I am very aware that no Heda before me has taken a houmon. But there are many things that have been accomplished during my time as Heda that no one before me achieved. And Klark kom Skaikru has proven herself not only to be a brave, fierce warrior and a skilled leader for her people, but a worthy mate for me as well." Lexa looked at Clarke and smiled again, that smile increasing even more when Clarke returned the look of adoration. "I love her, and she loves me. We have learned much from one another already, and I look forward to learning even more with her by my side."

Lexa turned to look at the council once more. "Wanheda's power is now _forever_ part of the alliance!" Lexa loudly proclaimed, raising her and Clarke's enjoined hands high. "Our coalition of clans is still stronger with Skaikru, and Klark herself will deal with the hostile element within Skaikru in just a few days. Until then, they will all remain contained in their home territory, as already decided."

"How do we know that the Skaikru—" The speaker, a middle-aged warrior from the Broadleaf clan, caught himself quickly. "How do we know that Klark kom Skaikru will not wield undue influence with you, Heda?" the man asked, trembling slightly as he finished his question.

"Clarke already wields powerful influence with me, although I would not say it was undue," Lexa replied. "She has proven herself to be my best adviser time and again."

"Lexa is still Heda," Clarke added. "Even with her being my wife, I will follow the Commander's directions, beginning with sorting out the mess that has developed in Arkadia."

"We have other business to conclude before that," Lexa said, turning to look at Clarke. Her imperious gaze gentled as she met Clarke's eyes, and the bright green eyes that Clarke adored softened along with Lexa's voice as she addressed her lover. "Arkadia is safely contained for the time being. We have another traitor we have to deal with right now."

Lexa looked around the room once more. "Proceed down to the plaza below," she said firmly, and her tone of voice made it clear this was not a request. "Oh, and kill that worthless man who tried to throw a knife at me."

—O—

Abby Griffin arrived in Arkadia's garage at a run, quickly spotting the medical team including Jackson and two Arkadians they had trained as nurses and assistants, Greene and Yates.

"What happened?" Abby said, trying to slow her breathing after running all the way to the motor pool.

"The strike team Chancellor Pike sent to take out a nearby village met some resistance," Jackson replied, calm as always. "From what I could tell, it sounds like... a poison gas attack."

"Poison gas?" Abby asked, turning to look at her colleague. "My God. How many?"

"Monty caught some of it, but it sounds like he's stable. A few others got a bit of it, but it sounds like they're fine. Monroe, though..." He trailed off, his face turning grim. "It didn't sound good, Abby."

Abby nodded at the same time the door to the garage began to rumble open. "Be ready to get Monroe onto the stretcher and transport her to sickbay immediately," she said, pleased when their two nurses did just that. Abby checked her equipment and loaded a dose of epinephrine in her injector. "I'm loading the epi, you ready a dose of corticosteroids," she said to Jackson. "If she breathed in enough poison gas, we could be dealing with alveolar burns, pulmonary edema or hemorrhage, tracheal occlusion..."

Jackson nodded. "Or all of the above," he added flatly. "Here they come."

The all-terrain transport screeched to a stop just a few feet away; the rear doors flew open even as the vehicle was still rocking back and forth from the abrupt halt. Greene and Yates ran forward with the stretcher, Abby and Jackson right on their heels.

Inside the rear of the transport, two people were hovering over a still figure, the soles of a pair of dark boots facing the medical team, still marked with leaves and black soil between the lugs. Nathan Miller was performing CPR while another member of the squad used an AMBU bag to give their patient a breath every fifteen beats.

"It's getting harder to bag her," said Jenna Wright, sweat dripping down her neck. "She's still alive, but I don't know how."

"We lost her twice," Miller said, checking Monroe's neck. "Pulse's back," he said before letting his head tilt back and sucking in a deep breath as he was finally able to give his aching arms and back a respite.

"Let's get her to sickbay," Abby said, moving to allow Yates and Greene to slide the stretcher under the figure's legs, then the two of them and Miller scooted the body the rest of the way onto the stretcher.

As they slid the body out of the vehicle, Abby recognized Zoe Monroe's pale face, dotted with faint freckles, her strawberry-red hair pulled back into the long braids she usually wore when on duty as a guard. She was ashen, the sweat on her face and neck dangerously cool when Abby checked her pulse. "Still alive," she said, as much to herself as anyone else. "Give her the hydrocortisone," she said to Jackson, who immediately injected the medication into Monroe's limp figure.

 _She's still just a child,_ Abby thought to herself as she looked at just how young Zoe Monroe looked as she lay there, helpless and unconscious. _Or least she was until we sent her down here to die._ "Go get the ventilator ready," she said to Jackson, who instantly ran out of the motor pool.

Miller took the ventilation bag from Wright, who immediately stretched her fingers and hands out as she began walking with them down the hallway toward the medical section of the Ark. "Go find Harper," Miller said to Wright as he took over administering breaths to the unconscious Monroe.

"She's on fence duty," replied Wright.

"I know. Go relieve her and tell her to come to sickbay."

Wright looked confused. "But Chancellor Pike wants a full contingent of—"

"I know!" Miller snapped at Wright, still working the bag steadily despite the resistance he could clearly feel. "Go find Harper, tell her to come to sickbay now, and take over for her. I'll cover your next shift." He looked up at Wright as they walked, sweat soaking the collar of his shirt and glistening in the artificial lights of the Ark. "Please, Jenna."

Wright looked at him for another second before nodding. "Okay, sure, yeah. I'll go get her and relieve her."

"Thank you," Miller said as they neared sickbay, watching briefly as Wright took off at a jog, and then they were in the medical wing.

Together the team positioned Monroe's small body on the operating table Jackson directed them to, the ventilator already powered up and awaiting the measurements that the table would collect to properly adjust the settings on the device.

"Nathan, did you see what the gas they used on her looked like?" Abby asked the guard as he stepped back, giving the medical team room to move while Abby listened quickly to Monroe's heart and lungs.

He nodded, only to see that Abby was no longer looking at him; she had moved to stand at Monroe's head, using a device to raise her jaw while she intubated her. "Yeah, I did. It was bright yellow, maybe with a little bit of green in it."

"Good," Abby said as she pulled something out of the tube, then connected the ventilator's hose to the artificial airway. "Watch the settings closely," she said to Jackson, giving him a glance. "Her lungs are full of fluid, but she's tiny. We don't want to rupture her lungs trying to fight against the shunt caused by the fluid." She lifted her head to look at Miller again. "Go see if Lincoln might know what they used on her, if there's anything we can use to counter the gas's effect."

"Got it," Miller said, turning and hurrying out of the medical wing.

—O—

Miller's walk back from the brig was much more somber.

Lincoln's news wasn't good. There was no known cure or counter-agent for the blistersap once it had been inhaled or ingested, although he did say that it wasn't _always_ fatal. Miller was still thinking about the stony expression on Lincoln's face when a high-pitched scream reverberated through the metal hallway.

He broke into a run, taking the last few turns at full speed until he saw a hysterical Harper, pounding on the now-closed door to sickbay. Her shrieks were enough to turn his stomach, and the sobs punctuating them were just as devastating emotionally.

"Harper!" he yelled as he reached her. _"Harper!"_ Getting no response, he grabbed her forearms where she was pounding on the door, which had thankfully been turned opaque. He was careful to not squeeze her, but from how hard she had been pounding on the door, he was sure she had already bruised her hands. "Hey," he said more softly, moving to where she could see him.

"What—" Harper gasped, "h-happened," trying to get words to come out but not having much success.

"They used some kind of poison gas on us," Miller said, still holding her arms as he tried to calm the hysterical teenager who was a year younger than him. "Several of us got hit, but Z—" He swallowed and glanced away from the pain in her friend's wide eyes. "Zoe got it pretty bad."

Harper broke down sobbing, and only Miller's firm grip kept her from collapsing to the floor entirely. He eased her down and pulled her into his lap, holding her while she buried her face into his shoulder and cried harder than he had ever seen anyone cry. "She's still alive, somehow," he said softly. "She's tough. Just like you."

"I can't lose her," Harper moaned weakly before being overcome again, sobbing agonizingly as Miller tried to console her.

"Dr. Griffin and Dr. Jackson are both working on her," Miller said, trying to give her something to listen to, something to concentrate on other than worrying about what was happening on the other side of the door behind them. "They were getting her on the ventilator, to do the work of breathing for her. She's got a chance, Harper."

Harper hiccuped next to his ear as she pulled back enough to look into his eyes, her own eyes bloodshot, her nose and cheeks red and glistening tears covering her face. She took a few jerky breaths before whispering, "She's my world," in a voice so frail and pleading that Miller himself shivered.

"She'll fight," Miller said, trying to keep his voice from breaking. "She'll fight for _you."_

Harper stopped, looking into Miller's eyes, now limned with tears themselves. She held his gaze, considering his words, then finally nodded twice. As she leaned forward into Miller's embrace, she started to cry again, but this time it was less frantic, less panicked. Miller closed his eyes and tried not to think about how likely it was that not one but two of his friends' lives hung on the actions of the doctors and nurses in the room behind them.

—O—

After nearly two hours, the sound of the sickbay door reverting from opaque to transparent stirred Miller from where he and Harper had fallen asleep from sheer exhaustion. Miller got to his feet, lifting Harper with him. Feeling the blonde's arms tense, he firmly said, "Hey! Listen to me, Harper!"

She looked up at him, defiance and fire in her eyes.

He met her emotion and didn't flinch. "If you go running in there, who knows what you could knock over, or hit, or mess up, and what good is that going to do Monroe?"

She glared at him but didn't argue.

"Let me talk to them." He looked at her pointedly and said, "I'll get you in there. I swear it."

Harper continued to glare at him, but finally relented, nodding her assent as she looked down at the floor and focused on not losing control and bursting into the medical wing as soon as the door opened.

Miller turned to see Jackson looking back at him. His expression wasn't terrible, and as Miller looked behind him, he saw Monroe mostly covered with a thermal blanket, the ventilator hose running from her mouth to the machine beside her. There was another apparatus next to her along with tubing darkened with what appeared to blood, but her face was visible, and he could see a monitor with what appeared to be tracings of her vital signs on the wall.

Miller reached behind himself, using his arms to physically keep Harper behind him as the door opened. "She's alive?" he asked hopefully.

"Still," Jackson said, his face notably weary. "God, she's tough. We have her stabilized at the moment, but we're having to drain the blood and fluid from her lungs. It's..." He hesitated, then said, "We could still lose her. The next few hours, the next day or two, it's fifty-fifty."

Harper began to cry again behind Miller, and he felt her lean against his back. "Harper... Harper needs to be with her."

Jackson looked behind Miller, then nodded. "Of course," he said. "Don't touch anything, okay?" he asked Harper, getting a weak nod in reply. "I'll get you a chair. You can sit with her."

"Thank you," Harper whispered as Miller moved to escort her into the medical bay. She couldn't feel her feet touching the floor as he steered her across the metal floor to the table holding her lover; all she could see was how pale Zoe looked, how vulnerable and fragile she appeared with the tubes attached to her body, and how much the redhead she had grown to love would have hated to be seen that way by anyone, most of all Harper.

Wordlessly she stood beside the table; she gently took Zoe's left hand, being very careful not to move her arm at all. When Jackson pushed the chair beneath her, Harper perched on the edge of the seat like a songbird, ready to spring into flight at a moment's notice should something startle her. She trembled as she looked at Zoe's pallid face, unable to stop tears from spilling down her cheeks again.

Abby looked up from the scans she had taken of Monroe's lungs, seeing Harper's blond head now seated beside the multipurpose table. "We'll be moving her into a bed soon," she said. "I want her right here for a little longer in case something happens and we have to operate emergently."

Harper nodded, wiping tears with her free right hand.

Seeing the blonde wasn't moving, Abby moved closer. "You really can't stay in here, Harper," she said softly. "We might need to—"

"I'm not leaving her," Harper said flatly, never taking her eyes off Monroe's face.

Abby sighed quietly. "Harper..."

"Can you guarantee me that she's going to make it?" Harper asked sharply as her head shot up to meet Abby's eyes directly, her own gaze burning in intensity despite the redness of her eyes and face. "Can you?!" she snapped.

After a few seconds, Abby just barely shook her head. "I can't guarantee that. She's stable now, which is more than I had expected when we first started working on her, so that's promising, but no, I can't guarantee anything."

"Then I'm not leaving," Harper said defiantly. "If you need me to move because you need to get in here, then I'll be happy to move, but if this might be the last chance I have to spend time with her, I'm going to be here every fucking _second."_

As understanding finally began to dawn on Abby, she took in a steadying breath. "I didn't realize you two were so... close."

Harper's expression went from defiant to cold at that. "Then apparently you just aren't very good at paying attention," she said icily. "Or maybe you're still thinking of us as kids, right? Because Zoe and I are both just sixteen, we don't know what we're doing?"

"No, I've learned my lesson on that subject," Abby said, her voice subdued. "Clarke's already informed me of that. And knowing what you suffered in Mount Weather..."

Harper's anger softened some, but she refused to look away from Abby, even after the mention of that hated place ( _they were all dead and_ _GOOD FUCKING RIDDANCE)_ made places in her hips, her legs, her arms ache all over again. "None of us are kids any more. We've fought, we've bled, we've died, and we've killed." She turned to look at Monroe. Carefully she stood, not releasing her girlfriend's hand as she gently ran the fingers of her right hand through Monroe's light reddish-blonde hair. "And some of us have been fortunate enough to love, and to be loved," she said, her voice trembling between joy and heartache, balancing on a razor edge between the two.

The room was silent and still for several seconds, until Harper leaned forward and lovingly kissed Monroe on her forehead. "I'm going to be with her," she said, not looking up. "Whether she makes it or not, she has to fight, and I need to be here to support her."

Abby watched as a tear dripped from Harper's cheek, striking the front of the blanket covering Monroe with a silent splash.

"She's not going to be alone," Harper said. "She's not going to feel like everyone forgot about her, like they just locked her in a ca—in a _room_ and left her to live or die without caring about the outcome."

Abby walked over and gently rested her right hand on Harper's shoulder. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. "If I had realized the two of you were together, I never would have..."

Harper looked up at Abby; this time, she allowed herself to smile softly despite the anguish in which she was drowning at the moment. "Thank you for letting me stay, Dr. Griffin," she said. "I'll do anything I can to help you, as long as I can be here with Zoe."

"You can stay as long as you want. I'll have a cot and some blankets brought in for you."

Harper nodded, unable to speak temporarily as emotion began to overwhelm her again. She began to stroke her fingertips down Monroe's face, being careful not to jostle either the large hose connected to the tube in her throat or the smaller tube snaking into her nose.

"This can't happen again," Harper said softly several minutes later, after she regained some control over her tears. When Abby turned to look her, a question written on her face, Harper nodded down at the still body of her girlfriend. "Pike," Harper said bitterly. "Sending them out to kill people who've become our allies... or to die fighting them."

Abby looked around, reasonably sure that there were no listening devices in medical, simply because the risk of interference with the more sensitive equipment was significant, and she didn't think that even Pike was that paranoid yet. "I'm not sure that's a subject we need to—"

"He's not going to stop, Dr. Griffin," Harper said firmly. "Not until we're _all_ dead. Because there's always going to be one more village that has to be taken, or one more enemy that has to be eliminated before we can feel 'safe' again."

She held Abby's eyes. "This is the fucking _ground_. Nowhere down here is safe, and we have to live with that. But Clarke and her truce with the Grounders gave us nearly four months of peace, and now _Chancellor_ Pike has shot that all to hell." She looked back down at Zoe, softly mumbling, "I sure as hell didn't vote for his stupid ass."

"We'll be able to call another election soon," Abby said.

"Not good enough," Harper said, and her eyes flashed with fire again as she looked back up. "Who'll be the next one he puts on this table?" she asked, gesturing to Monroe. "Me? Miller?" She waited, then asked, "You?" She paused longer, then softly asked, "Clarke?"

Abby nearly gasped at that mental image, and she felt her knees weaken as she seriously considered that real possibility.

"She's been more friendly with the Grounders than any of us, but Pike will see that as a security risk. Or even treason."

Abby looked into Harper's eyes, seeing sadness in them, but also angry resolve. She took a few steps closer. "What did you have in mind?" she asked quietly.

—O—

In Arendelle, Anna brought Icescale down for a landing outside the forest that was her destination. She could see the horses gathered and tents standing at the forest's edge, right where the directions Arista had sent back to the castle said they would be. She made sure to leave quite a bit of room between the icy dragon and the army's horses, as a predator of such size tended to startle horses fairly often, despite their training.

As she slid off the dragon, she gave the side of his massive neck a friendly pat, then slid her shield into position on her left arm, mentally decreasing the magical cold that began to radiate from the device once on her forearm. It was cold enough outside that it wouldn't make much difference for those around her, not for several minutes at least, unless she willed it to become colder.

Looking ahead to the forest, she made her way through the camp at a steady pace, smiling and greeting the soldiers who bowed and spoke to their Summer Queen. As she neared the edge of the camp closest to the woods, she saw Arista making her way toward her, likely having been notified of Anna's arrival by a scout. Arista's pale blonde hair blew in the wind where it fell out from beneath the fuzzy hat she wore, and the sleeves of her coat and legs of her pants rippled in the wind as well.

"It's really bad," Arista said, raising her voice to be heard over the wind, forgetting that Anna could hear and see perfectly well despite the wind and snow swirling around them.

"I have to see it," Anna said, her voice firm but not harsh.

Arista nodded, turning to walk with Anna back into the forest. "I know," she said sadly. "Then you'll wish you could unsee it."

Over the course of her thirty-three years of life, Anna had been in war more than once. Not much, but enough to see death, and to deal it herself many times. She managed to make it through inspecting the remains of the adult man and woman, both tied to trees and then slowly, systematically mutilated and murdered. But the grisly sight of the slain boy shook her to her very core, and she no more than laid eyes on what remained of the small girl than she felt her insides rebel.

She ran to the nearest tree that didn't hold brutalized human remains and fell to her knees, throwing off her shield right before she vomited, powerfully and repeatedly. She focused on not losing control of her bladder and was at least able to retain that bit of dignity, but even after scraping her mouth and tongue with clean snow and trying to rinse her mouth, she couldn't eliminate the acrid taste that lined her cheeks and burned her throat.

Arista's gentle hand on her shoulder was reassuring, but Anna still couldn't help but shiver as she closed her eyes and focused on Elsa, on their children, on Olaf, on Kristoff and his wife and son, anything happy she could use to try and scrub the grotesque images she had just seen from her mind.

"I told you it was bad," Arista said sadly.

"Oh sweet Frigga," Anna swore softly, her head beginning to ache. "What could _do_ something like that?"

"It's not a what," Arista replied, her voice low but even. "It's a who. We found lots of footprints. The trees blocked most of the snow, so they were still visible."

Anna closed her eyes again. "I was really hoping you were going to tell me it was an animal or a monster of some kind, and that we could track it. And kill it."

"Well, we tried," said Arista, reaching down and taking Anna's right hand to help her up. Anna bent over to retrieve her shield, re-affixing it to her left forearm. "The ritual site is still pretty well-preserved at this point, and we were able to see that he—we're pretty sure it's a man, based on the size of the boot and depth of the footprints—that he set off west, a little northwest. Once he leaves the forest, the prints quickly get harder to spot."

"Show me," Anna said. With a simple nod, Arista turned and went deeper into the forest. As they approached the ritual site, Anna made a point to look down at the ground and not at any of the trees or the victims still bound to them as they walked into the small open space between the four victims and the trees holding them. Painted in blood on the snow were several sigils and symbols, none of which Anna recognized. But the unusual figures were clearly arranged in a circular pattern, and Anna was sure there was significance there.

"Have someone who can draw make a map of this layout," she said. "Mark which person is on what tree, and where." As a worrisome thought occurred to her, she added, "But don't let them copy those symbols, not all together. Not all on the same drawing or same page." She considered for a bit. "Maybe just make a key of each of them, with a corresponding number, and then use those numbers to mark which symbol was where and in what position."

Arista looked around at the soldiers in the area. "You heard the Queen," she said calmly. "And make sure to do what she said about those symbols, not copying them all onto the same page or in the exact positions they are here."

She then pointed out the trail of footprints leading away, distinct enough while under the cover of the evergreens, but once they reached open ground the prints faded quickly, filled with snow.

"This is as far as we could track them, thanks to the snow."

"Be nice to the snow," Anna said chidingly, giving Arista a sly smile. "It loves us, and we love it."

She knelt next to the footprints and began whispering, kneeling for several seconds before a sudden swirl of wind sent Arista's loose hair flying to the side. The wind came roaring off of the nearest mountain, reaching them with a force that sent loose snow billowing up and into the sky with a force enough to make Arista turn her back to the wind and cover her face.

After nearly a minute of the wind howling, it disappeared even more suddenly than that it had arrived. Arista hesitantly turned around, only to see a smiling Anna looking down at a remarkably visible trail of footprints that had somehow been blown clean of snow.

"Thanks," Anna said, apparently to the wind itself, looking up slightly for a few seconds before returning her attention to the trail that stretched out before them. "Shall we?" she asked.

Arista tightened her scarf and nodded. However, the trail was much shorter than they had expected, and in less than a minute they stopped at an area where it looked like the snow itself had been blackened.

"What is _that?"_ asked Arista. "That wasn't visible before."

"I'm not sure," Anna replied quietly, kneeling down to more closely inspect the stained area. The footprints led directly to it, but then they simply disappeared once they reached the blackened patch of snow. She removed the glove from her right hand and extended her fingers down toward the black snow, not touching it but coming very close to it.

"Something's wrong with the snow here," she said as she shook her head slowly. "It's... fouled, somehow. Polluted." She looked up to Arista. "The snow's fighting back, trying to cleanse it, but it's slow."

"Did someone pour oil on it or something?"

Anna shook her head again. "No, that should have melted it, or at least displaced it. This is..." She thought, trying to find the right words to phrase the unsettling sensations she was feeling here. "This is something that's changed the snow itself. Defiled it, I suppose."

"What can do that?"

Anna pondered that question. The few things that came to mind weren't very reassuring to consider. "I'm not exactly sure," she said, "but Elsa needs to see this too."

Arista nodded. "I'll send word to her."

"No," Anna said quickly but softly, knowing that Elsa had felt her shock earlier, when she had vomited. "She's already on her way."

—O—

Several hours had passed, with Harper eating some bread and venison that Monty had brought her earlier, after Abby had given him a nebulized dose of medication for his lungs and discharged him from Medical. She had adjusted her position, now sitting sideways in the chair and leaning her head against Monroe's left arm while she held her lover's hand.

After looking at the repeat scan of Monroe's chest and lungs, Abby quietly made her way back across the room, checking the monitor displaying Monroe's vitals again. "We're making headway. The fluid is decreasing in her lungs, as is the swelling. No active pulmonary hemorrhage either," she said confidently. "She's a fighter."

"She is," replied Harper softly. "That's part of why I love her." After a pause, she added, "And Clarke's a fighter too."

Abby felt her own eyes fill with tears at the mention of her daughter.

"She'll be back one day, Dr. Griffin. She'll always love you. But you have to accept that Clarke is her own woman now."

"That's..." Abby said, her throat thick. "That's hard to do, when I keep seeing her as my little girl up on the Ark. On her first day of school. At her first Unity Day performance. On her sixteenth birthday."

"And you don't have to let those memories go," Harper said gently. "But you do have to remember that those memories aren't who Clarke is anymore. They represent where she came from, but they're not who she is today. And if you try to make her be that little girl again, you're going to lose her."

Abby considered the teenager's words. "If I haven't lost her already..." she breathed to herself.

For several minutes the room's only noises were the steady beeps of Monroe's heartbeat on the monitor and the hisses of the ventilator, Monroe's petite chest rising and falling with each forced breath. Finally Harper spoke again, and despite her voice being quiet, it was still indelibly clear to Abby.

"You've seen most of my scars, Abby. They're on my arms, my hips, my legs, my chest, for everyone to see. I'll never be rid of them, no matter how badly I want them to be gone. But there are scars on the inside, too... and that's where most of Clarke's scars are. On the inside.

"She's trying to heal from what she had to do at Mount Weather, what she had to do to get us all out of there, and if she hadn't done every single goddamn thing that she did, we'd be dead. _I'd_ be dead. And all of you here at the Ark would wind up hanging upside down in that fucking white room, locked in cages like livestock, being bled dry to keep all those vampires inside that mountain alive another hundred years."

Abby wiped tears from her eyes. "I don't know her anymore," she said, her voice cracking. "The things she's done, that she's allowed to happen..."

"I can promise you that Clarke carries the weight of everything she's done right on her shoulders. But she doesn't let it break her. She _can't_ let it break her, because if it ever did, we'd all have been dead ten times over." Harper met Abby's eyes when the older woman turned to face her again. "Everything Clarke has done, she's done to keep all of us alive." Harper slowly shook her head. "She didn't do those things because she wanted to. She did them because she _had_ to. For us."

They looked at each other for a minute, a weary woman who had lost her husband and was losing her daughter, and a teenager who had learned more about loss, suffering and tragedy in six months than anyone should have learn over his or her lifetime.

"If you don't know who she is any more... why don't you ask her?"

Despite the softness of Harper's question, the words struck Abby with the force of a kick to her sternum. "What?" she asked, choking slightly on the word.

"Stop coming at her like a problem that needs to be treated, and just _listen_ to her." Harper blinked a few times. "Try treating her like an adult, like the responsible woman she's proven to be." Harper smiled, and the sadness inherent in that smile nearly broke Abby's heart. "We've earned our right to sit at the big table with the adults," Harper said sadly. "We paid for it in blood."

—O—

As they made their way out of the tower and into the large plaza, Clarke's eyes immediately went to the large wooden tree standing in the center of a small patch of green and brown, an island of soil, twigs and leaves in an ocean of gray concrete. Titus was tied to it, his back snug against the dark gray bark, surrounded by no less than a dozen guards armed with spears and swords.

Lexa led the way, her face rigid and cold, her eyes glittering green chips of ice in the darkness of her war paint, her personal design evoking thoughts of looming black wings and tears of dark blood simultaneously. Behind her came Clarke, her face bare other than a look of grim determination; as she neared, men, women and children alike stared at her with expressions of fear, awe and worship, and when she passed, she could hear the whispers of _Wanheda_ and _Klark_ follow her, whispers just loud enough that she couldn't pretend they weren't real.

After the two women came four of Heda's guards, followed by the rest of the council; if they still resented Clarke's seeming elevation above them following her union with their Heda, such feelings had been temporarily suppressed by outrage, by righteous fury that someone would try to kill one of their own number, let alone their Heda herself, here in the city that housed the coalition.

As they reached the open space in the center of the plaza, Titus stood calmly. He said nothing, as there were no words that could have changed what was to come. He met Clarke's eyes, and for a moment emotions flashed in his eyes as she watched him. And then the emotions were gone.

Lexa stopped a few feet away from him. This close to the man who tried to kill Clarke, she was having a surprisingly difficult time maintaining her focus, when she wanted to do unspeakable things to him, to serve as a bloody, terrifying warning to any who might dare to threaten her houmon in the future.

She stepped forward, close enough to hear Titus's breathing increase as her approach. Her expression was stony as she looked at him, holding her gaze steady until he looked directly at her. "You taught me much, Titus," Lexa said softly. "And for that, I am grateful. But as I told you before, I am quite capable of separating my feelings from my duty."

Her eyes turned cold as she fixed him with a glare now. "Titus kom Polis, you are guilty of attempting to kill Klark kom Skaikru and your Heda, using a forbidden weapon, no less," she said, raising her voice to make it audible through the gathered crowd. "The punishment for those acts is clear."

She stepped back, taking her place beside Clarke as Indra stepped forward, unsheathing her blade. Her limp made her approach slow, but her hand was steady as she slowly scored the first cut, across Titus's left cheek. As Indra backed away, Octavia took her place, glaring at Titus as she drew her own knife. "This is for trying to kill Heda and my friend," she growled as she stepped up to him. "And for generally being kind of an asshole." She sliced slowly across his right bicep, keeping her eyes locked onto his as she did so.

Several others took their turns after that, and by the time Clarke realized someone was standing in front of her, gesturing for her to take her turn, Titus was shivering from a combination of early blood loss, agony and emotion. His skin had been lacerated in dozens of places, and what made Clarke shiver even more as she slowly walked up to the tree was that there was still much more surface area left uncut. Many more opportunities for Titus to suffer before he finally died.

She looked at his neck, watching his pulse visibly throb as she examined him from up close. It was still strong, indicating he would likely survive hours longer before finally dying from blood loss. The efficacy of the Grounders and their punishments was darkly impressive; their inherent toughness would only prolong the suffering in this situation, grimly enough.

Clarke considered her options for several seconds before finally drawing the knife at her side. She leaned in close to his left ear before she whispered, "In your own twisted way, I understand that by trying to kill me, you though you were protecting Lexa." She leaned back, meeting his gaze and seeing surprise in his twitching eyes. "But you were wrong, Titus," she said, still speaking at a whisper. "And while you might have made it less dangerous for Heda by killing me, you would have killed Lexa as well."

She gave him a sad smile, then she tore his shirt, exposing his upper chest. Her touch was steady and firm as she slid the knife just below his left collarbone, pressing just deeply enough to cut into his subclavian artery. As the bright red blood began to trickle forth down his chest, Clarke pulled back, wiping the blade of her knife on the remains of his shirt. "This is all the mercy I offer you, Titus," she said softly. "And it's more than you deserve."

As Lexa watched Clarke's actions, she felt her throat tighten slightly at her mate's decision to speed up the process. Clarke's heart was so powerful and kind that she _had_ to be protected, to be kept safe against all the forces in the world that would take cruel delight in stripping away everything she held dear. And Titus, who had helped mold Lexa into the ruler she had become, had revealed himself to be one of those predatory forces who wanted to extinguish the goodness, the light, the _love_ from Clarke's soul.

Clarke was still returning to her place beside her wife when she saw Lexa start forward, her eyes burning with cold intensity beneath the inky black of her facepaint. Those bright green eyes didn't even glance at Clarke as Lexa passed by the blonde, so tightly were they locked in on Titus. Clarke turned as Lexa passed, watching as the Commander of Thirteen Clans strode with purpose directly toward Titus. Even the faintest whispers and murmurs fell deathly silent as Lexa approached the condemned man, his shirt now glistening with crimson color where he bled from the incision Clarke had made.

Without slowing her approach or taking her eyes off her former adviser, Lexa's right hand went to the handle of her sword as she drew near the pole. With a smooth, swift motion, she jerked the sword from its sheath on her left hip and struck in one fluid, powerful arc, baring her teeth in anger as she lunged forward. The glittering silver blade caught the light as it soared up and across, severing Titus's neck and deeply scoring the tree behind him as Lexa's right arm followed through with the motion of her strike, ending with her arm and weapon both fully extended out to her right side as she stood in front of Titus's body.

The image seared itself in Clarke's mind, the scarlet Commander's sash fluttering from Lexa's left shoulder from the motion of her strike, the gleaming metal of her sword shining to her right, while Titus's severed head tumbled to the ground. From behind Lexa was black leather and dark brown braids, dark and deadly and unstoppable judgment.

Lexa turned slightly as she took a cloth from her pocket and calmly wiped the blood from the blade of her sword, resheathing it carefully and efficiently. All remained silent as she lifted her gaze to look at the crowd gathered around her, then at the members of the Council.

"This was my adviser," Lexa said, her voice stern and fierce. "My _mentor."_ She didn't try to conceal the rage that was circulating through her body. "But he _dared_ to try to hurt Wanheda. He dared to try and hurt my _houmon!"_ she shouted.

The crowd began to buzz with noise and motion, and Clarke felt as much as saw hundreds of eyes flick in her direction, then back to Lexa, then back to her again.

"Yes," Lexa said, nodding, still addressing the crowd with her voice of authority. "Earlier today, Klark kom Skaikru—Wanheda—and I were joined. Any who seek to harm her have to fear not only Wanheda's own power, but MY UNDYING WRATH AS WELL!"

Once again the rustling and whispers of the crowd grew utterly silent, and Lexa continued to sweep her gaze around the crowd, as if daring anyone to break the silence formed equally from respect and fear. After nearly a minute, Lexa began to speak again, this time with her voice more calm but no less intimidating.

"We are aware of the murders that have been committed by the new leader of the Skaikru, who goes by the name Pike. Rest assured, Wanheda and I will not let this latest atrocity go unpunished. I have given orders for Skaikru to be blockaded by a force of three thousand warriors, to give them the opportunity to deal with this murderer themselves. Should they fail in that responsibility, then Wanheda herself will bring this Pike the justice he so richly deserves!"

The cheers from the crowd were immediate and furious, lusty in their screams and cries, and the suddenness as well as the fervor of the crowd made a cold trickle of sweat slither down the small of Clarke's back. She knew that Lexa's wasn't dumping the problem of Pike onto her; Clarke had known from the beginning that she would have to be the one to deal with Pike, and she and Lexa had already acknowledged as much earlier that day.

 _Earlier that day,_ Clarke thought, smiling to herself. It had only been a few hours ago, but it might as well have been a lifetime. _It was before Lexa and I made love. It was before we admitted that we were in love with each other._ She shivered, with fierce joy as well as an undeniable twinge of fear, as she continued with her train of thought. _It was before I was married._

"Wanheda."

Though the tone of voice was soft, the fact that it was Lexa's voice cut through Clarke's reverie like Lexa's blade cutting through Titus's neck. She looked up to see Lexa looking at her, holding her left hand out toward Clarke and obviously waiting for a response. The crowd, bordering on riotous just seconds earlier, was again eerily silent.

Without hesitation, Clarke stepped forward, walking crisply to join Lexa, taking her wife's outstretched left hand with her right as she took her place beside her Heda.

Lexa looked at Clarke with a hint of amusement flitting across her mouth, and the sheer beauty and elegance that Lexa embodied nearly took Clarke's breath away all over again. "What say you, Wanheda?" asked Lexa, proudly holding Clarke's hand in front of the entire city of Polis. "Will this Pike get away with murdering our people?"

With great effort, Clarke somehow managed to look away from Lexa's intense green eyes; she looked around the crowd slowly, carefully, much as Lexa had done, taking in a steadying breath before she trusted herself to finally speak.

" _HELL NO!"_

And the roar of the crowd nearly doubled what it had been before.

—O—

 **Author's Afterword:** Okay, this is fun to write. It's also very cathartic. You know, nearly as much as Clarke and Lexa got screwed, Monroe got screwed, too. I'm tired of the senseless deaths. People have to die, I get that. It _is_ the world of The 100. But I promise to be judicious in this aspect, at least. Believe me, if it's necessary for the story, I _will_ write the deaths of characters I personally love, even if it breaks my heart. But I will not revel in senseless deaths, nor will those deaths be insulting, dismissive or demeaning. I think Harper and Monroe deserve better too, and I'm giving them some attention and respect as well.

Next chapter I'll start to deal with the secret history and the relics hidden in Titus's little Chamber of Artifacts. We'll also get closer to the actual crossover happening, which I'm thinking will occur in Chapter 4. I can also let you know that we're going to pay a long visit to Arkadia soon after that, and I will _absolutely_ address the ALIE/Jaha storyline as well. I have some special things in mind for that particular story arc. Consider us officially canon divergent from this point on, because the show's canon is now a painful mess.

Still working on the last two chapters/epilogues for "Feel, Don't Conceal," and any of you who haven't read it who might be interested in learning more about Anna and Elsa and how their relationship came to be what it is in this story, you're most welcome to give FDC a read if you'd like. Again, you don't have to read it at all to follow this story as it progresses.

If you could use some more Clexa therapy, I can recommend some excellent works that have helped me personally over the last three weeks. Here on FFNEt, "Hedatu" and "Teina" are both excellent. On AO4, "The Marrying Type" by **artsypolarbear** is priceless and adorable, and I can't recommend it enough. "Maybe They Will Sing for Us Tomorrow" by **someoneelsesheart** will make you _bawl_ , but it is incredibly touching and beautiful. Pretty much everything by **reinclarkenation** is worth reading, but "I'm Breathing Fire into Dust" by her is hands-down one of the most skillfully, elegantly, lovingly written things I have ever read in my life. All of these are great places to go to soothe your aching hearts, because they've helped me with the pain in mine.

Stay strong and refuse to admit defeat. Their fight isn't over.


	3. Chapter 3: Dark as Night

**Author's Note:** Hope everyone is doing well! Time for our next chapter, and we're SOOO close to finally beginning the actual crossover part. Then we can get equal story time for our two main couples. There's just been so much to sort out for Clarke and Lexa. Season three was really a freaking mess. I hope you like this version better.

Cover Art for the story is from the LexaRecovery tumblr. Stay strong together.

 _I do not own the television show "The 100" or make any claims upon it or its characters. Similarly, I do not own Frozen, its characters or any Disney characters or property. All these characters are used under the concept of Fair Use, and I make no profit or income from using any of them._

 **Our Fight Is Not Over**

by Jo K.

Chapter 3: Dark as Night

 _All the stars and all the worlds_

 _Filling up this universe_

 _Could never be as close as us_

 _Will never shine as bright on us_

 _I won't desert you_

 _I don't know what to say_

 _I really hurt you_

 _I nearly gave it all away_

 _I got it all wrong_

 _Cause you were not the wrong one_

 _And I don't know where to turn_

 _When you're gone_

-New Order, "Waiting for the Siren's Call"

—O—

As they reached the bottom of the dimly-lit stairs, Lexa reached back to take Clarke's hand. "The door's right up ahead," Lexa said quietly.

"Please tell me this isn't going to be some secret torture chamber, with people hanging from the ceiling and skeletons in chains against the walls," Clarke said at a near-whisper.

Lexa turned, and despite the weak, flickering light from the lantern she was holding, her smile was radiant to Clarke, a smile that was given to absolutely no one else. "It's nothing like that, I promise."

As they exited the stairwell and began to walk down the hall, Clarke's eyes were drawn to a speck of color ahead of them, farther down the hallway, glowing brightly in the pool of dark surrounding it. "What is _that?"_ she said, leaning forward.

It was very clearly a soft red light, coming from a dark gray box affixed to the wall beside a heavy steel door, the details becoming clearer as they stopped several feet away from the door.

"A lock," Clarke breathed softly. "How does this have power?" she asked, dumbfounded.

"Sections of wall on the tower's outside and roof that gather sunlight, placed subtly along the walls of the tower," Lexa replied quietly. "There is also a battery back-up of some sort, as it has never gone out, even during storms lasting several days." She turned to look at Clarke. "You must understand, Clarke, this room contains the most sacred artifacts of my people. Very few even know of this room's existence, and the only people who know what is inside this room are the Heda, the Flamekeeper and the Flamekeeper's second."

Clarke nodded. "I won't tell anyone, I promise," she replied, just as softly. Reluctantly, she shifted her gaze from Lexa's bright green eyes, rich with color in the lantern's flickering light, to the glow of the red light in the upper left corner of the box next to the door. "How do we get in?"

Lexa didn't move, except to smile when Clarke's eyes tracked back to her own. "This way," Lexa said, the grin still on her face as she stepped forward until she was right in front of the door; with a quick beep, the light changed from red to green, and a soft click emanated from the door.

"How did you—" Clarke asked; Lexa hadn't touched the sensor, she hadn't used a keycard or anything. Lexa reaching out and taking Clarke's hand again finally spurred the blonde into motion, stumbling forward for a step or two until she had her balance once more.

As Clarke entered the room, Lexa closed the door behind them, the metallic _clack_ of the locking mechanism engaging resounding through the large, cavernous room that stretched out ahead of them. As lights around the room flickered into life, Clarke found her attention drawn irresistibly to the large object in the center of the room, something so unexpected, so anomalous to everything she had seen, heard and believed about the Grounders that she momentarily found it difficult to breathe.

"A drop ship," she weakly gasped, unable to focus upon anything other than her pounding heart, her dizzy head, her vision beginning to fade to black at the edge of her sight. "Oh my God."

—O—

Really, people just _wanted_ to be fooled.

He had convinced himself of that long ago, and the actions of the people in this Ice Nation, or _Azgeda_ , as they called themselves in their own language, only reinforced this theory. Why else would they be so eager to believe some man coming out of the icy wastes, who promised he could not only restore their beloved "Ice Queen"—he laughed to himself again at the irony—to life once more but also grant her mystic powers as well?

And all it would cost was lives, and souls. Scores of them.

Such irrational belief, such faith (how he hated the word) was useful, though, and he was the last to let opportunity slip past him. Restoring life to the dead was easy enough, provided one had the proper tools, enclosed in the book of black magic he kept on his person at all times, and enough raw materials. But magic was weaker in this new world. He had learned that the hard way, and even something as simple as siphoning a victim's memories left him drained for some time. He was still capable of performing enough simple acts of magic to convince these people of Azgeda that the power he wielded was real enough, but they quite reasonably balked at letting him kill over a hundred of their number to power a ritual that would restore Nia, their queen, to life.

So in the end he had decided to kill two birds with one stone.

As the life drained from the last of the prisoners staked to the ground at the ritual site, Hans looked up as the air crackled and ripped, reality tearing a jagged, irregular line to reveal a swirling storm of blue and white. The ice people who had assisted him broke and ran at the sight and sound of their world rupturing, only stopping after they were much farther away, and they saw that the tear in reality wasn't enlarging further.

"Magic is stronger in the dimension on the other side of this portal," he said to the leader of the small army who remained loyal to their deceased queen, the movement still plotting to overthrow her traitorous son who now sat upon her white throne.

"So your ritual will be carried out... there?" asked the slim woman with dark blonde hair and cold blue eyes, regarding the crackling gateway warily.

"Yes, Echo," he said, keeping his voice friendly and free of any derision. The people in this world didn't have much in the way of courtesy, or forgiveness. "And we'll be able to gather more than enough sacrifices there. One or two small villages should be sufficient with the remaining prisoners you already have. As long as your warriors can keep anyone from sending for help, it should be simple. The people in Arendelle are hardy, but they're no match for fighters as ferocious as your Azgeda."

"And this doorway will remain open long enough for our warriors to pass through?"

He nodded. "I took care to make the duration longer, which, along with the weaker level of magic in this world, is why I needed twenty-five sacrifices. Sixteen might have been enough, but I used a bit more to make sure the effect would last long enough."

Echo nodded. He might be insane, and she might be just as insane for following him, but Nia was the only chance the Azgeda had to outmaneuver and overthrow Lexa. She looked back at the line of warriors gathered behind him, nearly three hundred Azgeda, properly geared for winter's biting touch. Cargo sleighs held cages of surviving prisoners; the cages had been covered securely with thick hide covers to prevent the people inside from meeting death too early in the frozen lands. "I still have concerns about the portal remaining open once we pass through," she said. "Others could follow us through."

The man nodded, his ruddy sideburns unlike any facial stylings Echo had seen. "That is certainly a possibility," he admitted.

"I'll leave a squad of troops to guard the passage," Echo said with a nod. "I did bring a contingency plan I can leave with them, in case they get overwhelmed. It'll be a suicide ploy to release it, but if they're desperate enough to use it, they'll be desperate enough to need it."

The sorcerer nodded agreeably. "A practical assessment. I suspect it was more than just good fortune that brought me to your Ice Nation," he said, drawing Echo's attention once more.

She tried to repress a shudder but was only partially successful. There was a sibilant hiss to some of his words, so subtle as to not be clearly recognizable but somehow seeming to worm its way into her mind; the sensation was unnerving and, Echo would be hesitant to admit, was beginning to 'creep her the fuck out,' a phrase she had picked up from her brief time with the Skaikru. She steeled herself, continuing to watch her allies work at securing the heavy horses and the bundles holding her aunt's remains rather than turn to look at the sorcerer. "What makes you say that?" she managed to say, her voice only slightly unsteady.

"I suspect the climate where I performed the ritual, ice and snow and bitter cold, caused the gate to open in a similar location on this side as well." He smiled, and despite her not looking at his face, Echo still felt her skin crawl at the gesture. "And perhaps it brought me to people with similar goals and sensibilities as well," he said smoothly. "I'm still learning the intricacies of this particular form of travel."

Echo swallowed. Maybe she wasn't as insane as he was for following him.

Maybe she was _more_ insane.

—O—

Anna continued to pet the icy osprey as Elsa finished signing the note at her desk. The bird looked at her curiously until she scratched its neck below its beak; the bird then lowered its head and pressed deeper into her scratching, making Anna giggle softly.

"He's cute," she said, turning to look back to Elsa's desk.

Elsa slid the rolled-up parchment into an oiled leather case. She had chosen to use parchment instead of paper for a few reasons, durability in hostile elements among them. She sealed the leather case with a circular patch of ice, profiles of both her and Anna embossed in the center of the seal. She stood from her desk, smoothing her dress as she walked across the study to her wife and their courier.

Stopping to pet the osprey, Elsa smiled as the bird turned to look at her. "He is," she agreed, drawing a happy little squeak from deep in the large bird's chest. "He'll get this letter there safely," she said as she positioned the tubular leather case lengthwise down the osprey's spine, affixing it to his icy feathers with a pulse of magic. "Won't you, noble one?" she asked, gently stroking the feathers of the osprey's head.

The large bird of prey turned to look at its mistresses, dipped its head respectfully to them, then leaped from its perch and flew out of the large open window in the study. In moments it was fading into the gray sky, heading southerly toward its destination.

"She knows more about dark magic than anyone I know of," Elsa said, turning to look at Anna. "Hopefully she can shed some light on this... situation."

Anna nodded silently, watching the icy creation disappear out of the range of her sight. "It'll be nice to see the two of them again, too," she said quietly. She reached out and took Elsa's hand, lifting it to her lips to place light kisses on the fair hand of her wife. "We have to catch the monster who did that to those people," she said, brushing her lips against Elsa's knuckles. "Because I have a very bad feeling he's going to keep doing this until we kill him."

Elsa sighed faintly. "I'm afraid I agree with you, my love," she said sadly. "I've dispatched riders to the smaller villages to try and warn them that this sorcerer might strike again, but some of the more remote settlements are nearly two weeks away."

"Arista left this morning to try and find what information she could. I also sent word to Rapunzel, Ariel and Snow White to see if any of them have dealt with anything similar in the past."

"Snow's a good choice," Elsa said, nodding her head once. "Freya knows she's had to deal with her share of dark magic."

"You want to have a late lunch?" Anna asked, turning to look at Elsa.

Elsa smiled. "With you? That sounds quite lovely."

Anna grinned, the skin around her freckles reddening slightly. "The lunch or me?"

Elsa smiled back as they left the study. "Who says I have to choose?"

—O—

It took Clarke nearly a minute to regain her composure enough to speak, and then only because Lexa gently grasped her left arm, afraid she might have frozen in place. "How—" she tried to say, but her voice squeaked more than spoke. She swallowed and tried again. "How... old is this?" she asked, unable to pull her eyes away from the machined sides of the drop ship.

 _Polaris_ , she read on the side, although the _a_ and _r_ in the middle of the word had been scorched black from the heat of re-entry, nearly erased completely and giving the appearance of _Pol is_.

"Nearly a hundred years," Lexa answered quietly. "Shortly after the cataclysm that burned the world." She reached out and hesitantly, reverently touched the cool metal of the pod. "This city above us was still smoking, the air still blackened with ash and soot when the first Commander of our people stepped out of this craft." Lexa gently turned Clarke to point to a mural painted on the concrete wall, depicting an abstracted gigantic figure painted entirely in black standing amidst the burning buildings while a multitude of smaller figures bowed before her. "She fell from the sky, much like you did many years later. She shared the gift of her unusual blood with the survivors of this city, creating the first nightbloods. She brought the gift of life to those few who had survived the cataclysm itself but were dying from the poisoned air and soil."

"From the radiation," Clarke said. "It's like an invisible poison, a side effect of the nuclear bombs that destroyed the world in the... cataclysm." Seeing Lexa listening to her intently, Clarke continued. "It's what makes some of the animals be born deformed."

Lexa's eyes grew sad. "It is not only animals that are born deformed," she said grimly.

Clarke nodded. "Yeah, of course it would affect people too. That's what killed the people in.."

It was frustrating that even after several months, her eyes still burned with threatened tears at this particular memory. Clarke took a deep breath, but before she could speak again, she felt Lexa's arms slide around her body, Lexa's hands gently pressing against Clarke's back and pulling the blonde into a gentle embrace.

"Breath, Clarke."

Hearing Lexa's tender whisper in her ear made Clarke clutch her lover even tighter, that soft voice somehow able to steadily quiet the screams and wails of the restless dead. After a few seconds, a few minutes or a few hours, Clarke finally was able to speak once again. "Radiation is what killed the Mountain People," she said softly. "They weren't able to survive the radiation like we were, or like the Grounders were."

Clarke lifted her head from Lexa's shoulder, looking into her wife's green eyes. "How _did_ the first Commander create the nightbloods?" she asked, curiosity tamping down her lingering guilt.

Lexa's expression drew serious once again, but her eyes remained open, vulnerable as she continued to look at Clarke. "Remember," Lexa said, stepping backwards slowly. "Everything in this chamber is protected and kept secret for very good reasons. Again, the only people who are allowed to know what is in this room—or even that this room _exists_ —are the Flamekeeper, the Keeper's Second and the Heda. It has been this way for nearly a hundred years."

"But you're showing it to me?" Clarke asked, now beginning to fear she wasn't worthy of such sacred knowledge. When Lexa nodded in reply, Clarke shook her head. "I somehow don't think being Wanheda earns me the right to know all this," she said, unable to keep the bile from rising in the back of her throat at having to speak the title she despised but had to bear.

"Why do you hate the title of Wanheda so?" Lexa asked, and the confusion on her face seemed heartfelt.

"Seriously, Lexa?" Clarke asked, amazement on her face. "The 'Commander of Death'? It's a title I earned because I've killed more people than anyone in your culture's history! Do you think I want to remembered for that, to be _honored_ for that?" She took a breath to calm herself down; she knew Lexa didn't mean to be insulting to her or upset her. "I know that it's something I have to accept, because God knows I deserve all the shame that name brings me, and I'll answer to it for you, but—"

Lexa's hands on her cheeks broke Clarke's train of thought, stilling her lips instantly. Before Clarke could say anything else, Lexa was leaning against her, pressing her lips against Clarke's so tenderly, so gently, that Clarke nearly broke down and cried. When she felt a warm wetness touch her left cheek, she opened her eyes to see Lexa's eyes closed, tears seeping through dark lashes.

After several seconds of kissing softly, Lexa pulled back. She refused to wipe away her tears, bearing them proudly before her mate as she looked into Clarke's eyes. "Clarke..." she said, gripping her wife's hands tightly. " _Wanheda_ means more than you think. You say it means you have killed more people than anyone in our known history... and that is correct."

Clarke's eyes closed tightly, and now a tear of her own made its escape down her face.

"But Wanheda has a second meaning as well."

Slowly Clarke's eyes opened, hurt and pain swimming in their blue depth.

" _Wanheda_ means you command death, Clarke," Lexa said patiently. "That you command it in _all ways_. Both in inflicting it, as well as saving others from it."

Lexa smiled at her wife proudly. "Clarke, you saved the reapers. You recognized what was wrong with them, you devised a plan to treat them, and you brought life and sanity back to ones we had thought had been lost forever. You escaped the mountain, something that had never been done before. You freed the prisoners from the Mountain with your plan, your courage. You saved not only Grounders but also Skaikru from the Mountain. Your skills as a healer are amaz—"

"My mom is the real expert," Clarke interrupted, shaking her head, but Lexa's fingers on her lips forestalled any further self-deprecating comments.

Lexa looked into Clarke's blue eyes with a combination of amusement and adoration, holding her gaze—and her fingertips on Clarke's lips—for several seconds, until she saw Clarke visibly relax and felt her sigh against her fingers. Only then did Lexa slowly retract her fingers, smile and continue. "Clarke, you are already one of the most skilled healers we have ever known. You're still learning the herbs and medicines we use and how to prepare them, but your skills of diagnosis and surgery are incredible. You have saved lives that would have been lost were it not for your skills on several occasions, and our people talk about those accomplishments as much as they talk about the mountain, both the monsters slain and the captives freed, the lives lost and lives _gained_."

Clarke's eyes looked away nervously, but Lexa immediately reached out and gently grasped the side of Clarke's neck, not tugging or putting pressure to shift her gaze, but simply resting her hands against Clarke's skin, patiently waiting until Clarke's eyes shifted to look back at her again. When those light blue eyes were again staring into her own, Lexa smiled. "Clarke, there have been dozens of Hedas since the first Commander fell from the sky," she said quietly. "But there has _never_ been a Wanheda. Until you."

Clarke was speechless at the revelation, the comparison. Lexa thought the look of utter surprise on her face was honest and beautiful and indicative of just how special, how humble, Clarke truly was. She deserved their people's adoration and devotion, and her reluctance to claim that devotion only made Lexa love her more.

She took Clarke's hand and led her across the room, to a metal workstation, its brushed surface spotless and empty. In the wall above the workstation was a safe, with a numeric keypad beside the safe's silver door, a red light glowing above the number keys. Clarke glanced at the safe and its keypad for a few seconds before she returned her attention to Lexa.

After a few seconds of quiet admiration, Lexa reached forward, thinking the code that would unlock the sealed vault. With a quiet beep and the red light yielding to a green one, the metal door opened.

—O—

Harper's stride was brisk as she hurried toward the main structure of Arkadia. She had worked a long shift, twelve hours standing guard at the fence overnight with only a small break to relieve herself and check on Monroe, but Abby had promised to wait until Harper was present to start weaning her girlfriend off the sedative keeping her in a medically-induced coma.

Harper unzipped her protective jacket as she hurried, ignoring the burning in her hips from bones notched by the uncaring bite of needles thirsty for her marrow. She had already handed her rifle over to the woman taking her post, and now she was ready to hopefully see her girlfriend wake up for the first time since her exposure to the poison gas.

As horrible as it sounded in her own mind, part of her was dreading that moment when Zoe regained consciousness. If she was in unbearable pain, if she was miserable to the point of wanting to die to end the suffering, Harper wasn't sure how she could reconcile keeping Zoe alive in such a state of perpetual misery. But the rest of her mind offered support, reminding Harper that Zoe was strong and determined, willing to deal with pain and discomfort to achieve her goals and return to her partner.

Harper hoped fervently that the second part of her mind was correct.

She had just entered the Ark, eyes still adjusting to the lighting change, when she literally ran into Hannah Green, who was walking with Charles Pike, the current Chancellor of Arkadia. "Sorry!" Harper said, reaching out to catch Hannah by her arms before the older woman stumbled. "Eyes are still adjusting."

"Aren't you supposed to be on guard duty?" Pike asked, his typical dour demeanor apparently out to play like usual.

"Just handed off my shift, sir," Harper said calmly, not flinching. "Sorry for nearly running, but Dr. Griffin is planning on taking my girlfriend off the ventilator today, and I want to be there with her."

Pike looked closely at Harper, but she refused to wilt under his gaze. "Monroe, right? Your girlfriend? The one we nearly lost in the attack on the village."

Harper nodded, trying not to twitch or shift in place due to her impatience... or her irritation. "Yes sir. She's doing better, but no idea when she might be able to return to duty. Right now I just want her to be able to breathe on her own."

Pike nodded, actually smiling slightly. "She's a hell of a soldier. Not scared of much of anything. Bellamy thinks the world of her."

Fighting the anger that hearing his name triggered, Harper managed to keep her expression neutral. "Yes sir. She'd follow him to hell." _And nearly did. We're going to have a serious talk about that as soon as she's up to it. Her hero worship for him has to stop, and the sooner the better._

"Hope she gets better soon," Pike said. "It's Harper, right?"

Harper nodded. "Yes, sir."

Pike nodded. "Good. Better move on, then. Tell her we're all pulling for her."

Harper nodded. "Sometime later, sir, I'd like to talk to you about a suggestion for pairing up guards on duty. A way to make the most of the guards who already have full training as well as utilize the skills those of us from the 100 have already learned here on the ground." She held Pike's gaze, then glanced briefly at Hannah before looking back to the Chancellor. "We've already learned a great deal about this area, the terrain and the habits of the Grounders in their region. Despite our relatively young ages, I think we have quite a bit to offer even the more experienced guards."

Hannah nodded. "Monty's suggested something similar to me too, Charles," she said to Pike. "I just hadn't brought it up yet."

Pike regarded Harper for a moment longer. "Interesting suggestion," he said. "Come find me later, once your girl's off that ventilator."

Harper nodded, smiling without having to fake it for the first time all morning. "Will do, sir. Thank you."

As Hannah and Pike moved to the side to let Harper continue toward medical, she nodded and hurried past them. However, she only made it another section closer when she ran into Thelonius Jaha, standing calmly and watching her in a way that made Harper distinctly uncomfortable.

"I can tell you're hurting, Harper," Jaha said, using the condescending voice that made both her and Zoe's skin crawl.

"I have no time for you," Harper said to him sharply.

"Your pain isn't just physical," Jaha said, ignoring her dismissal as he turned to follow her. "It's emotional, and you continue to suffer needlessly because of it."

Harper stopped and turned to face him. "And you're adding to it," she snapped at him.

"Why do you continue to torture yourself, Harper?" he asked, his voice remaining annoyingly calm and artificially friendly as he continued. "I offer you relief from all your pain, through the City of Light."

Harper felt her anger boil over as her self-control snapped. "The same 'relief' you offered my parents when you _floated_ them, you sanctimonious asshole?!" she said bitterly.

"That was another time, another world. The Ark was different. The rules had to be respected, or things would have descended into chaos."

"Yeah, the same chaos you decided to drop a hundred teenagers, even some _kids_ down into, because things were getting tight and you needed to conserve some resources!" she shouted, the last note of her words ringing off the metallic walls of the corridor. "And you now you think you're some sort of holy man, handing out a magic pill that'll make everything better!" She took a few deep breaths, trying to calm down. "You haven't achieved any kind of enlightenment, _Jaha_. You haven't even learned from your mistakes."

She swept her right arm out and around. "This is life," she said harshly. "We hurt in life. That's part of living." She patted her chest twice. "Yes, I hurt every day. I accept that. But I deal with it, because it's part of me now. It's a reminder that I'm still here, that I'm still alive, that I have a job to do and friends to protect and a woman to love and care for."

Her brown eyes grew cold as she glared at Jaha. "Unlike you, I'm not taking the easy way out, drugging myself up or whatever the hell that pill you're pushing does, just to keep from accepting responsibility for my mistakes and dealing with the shit that life throws at me everyday."

She leaned in close to him, smiling at the fact that for once he seemed speechless. "Ironic, isn't it, that you adults sent a bunch of kids down here to die, and now _we're_ the ones teaching _you_ how to fucking live."

From down the corridor, Pike and Hannah Green listened attentively to the exchange, watching Harper finally turn to walk away from Jaha, who continued to calmly stand in the hallway, seemingly unperturbed by being told off by a young woman over thirty years younger than him. Once the altercation was over, they quietly moved in the other direction, down into a lesser-used section of the Ark before they stopped.

"That's the type of person we need to get on our side," Pike said quietly.

"Harper?" Hannah replied, confused. "She was against us killing the Grounders outside Arkadia. She's furious at you for ordering that attack that nearly killed Monroe and at me for participating. And she isn't being quiet with criticizing what you've been doing since becoming Chancellor."

"That's _exactly_ why we need to get her to see reason," Pike replied. "Yes, she's critical of me, but she doesn't hide it. She comes right out and says it. She still does her job, without complaint and without cutting corners. She might have been against the strike on the Grounders, but she followed orders and stepped aside to let us pass. Plus she's one of the 100, and the others in that group look up to her. With the exception of Monty, the other teenagers still don't trust us."

"But she blames us for Monroe getting hurt."

"We just have to get her to see that _we_ weren't the ones who had a trap waiting. We didn't use poison gas on ourselves. That was the damn Grounders." He looked at Hannah. "Get her to correctly blame them for Monroe getting hurt, and she'll be our biggest supporter."

"And the rest of the 100 will fall in line," Hannah said, nodding slightly.

—O—

Abby looked up from the monitor displaying Zoe Monroe's vitals and oxygenation status to see Harper walking into sickbay. For the first time in two days, she saw a smile on the face beneath the blonde bangs.

"Is she still doing okay?" asked Harper hesitantly.

Abby nodded, smiling at the young woman's concern for her partner. She had come to know a great deal about the resilient blonde over the last thirty-six hours, and she couldn't help but admire Harper's tenacity. Unlike her own daughter, who was never shy about speaking up or stepping forward, Harper was most comfortable doing her job quietly, only becoming vocal and aggressive when pressed or angered; however, both of them possessed spirits that were stubbornly unyielding, and without Clarke here, Abby was grateful for every little quality in the blonde that reminded her of her daughter. "She's doing great," Abby finally replied, shaking herself out of her reverie. "I've already started weaning her off the ventilator and reduced her sedative."

Abby walked around Monroe's bed, the redhead's small body still without any movement beyond the rise and fall of her chest but definitely with more color in her fair complexion now. "Look at the monitor," she said to Harper, pointing to the line that gently swept up, then down again with Monroe's respirations. "She's breathing on her own now."

"Oh," was all Harper could say as her eyes flooded with tears. She felt her jaw clench and she raised her hands to her face, covering her nose and mouth as she fought not to break down and cry. It took a few minutes for Harper to compose herself, wipe her eyes, clear her throat and calm the floodgates of emotion that had been stirred up at the good news.

"I'm sorry," she finally said, her throat burning slightly. "For getting so emotional. I just..."

Abby shook her head. "You have nothing to apologize for, Harper."

Harper nodded, not trying to speak further. She simply took Monroe's left hand in both of her own and focused on the tube still sticking out of her girlfriend's mouth. When Abby moved to Monroe's head and looked at Harper once more, Harper simply nodded and focused all her willpower on not being terrified at what the next few minutes would bring.

Abby turned to look at Jackson, giving him a nod to signal for him to disconnect the ventilator from the breathing tube. Once that was done, he pressed the button to deflate the cuff holding the tube in place; with a smooth motion, Abby removed the long plastic tubing from Monroe's pharynx, handing it to Jackson before lifting a suction wand and making a gentle sweep of Monroe's now-empty mouth.

It was handled so simply and efficiently that everything was over before Harper even registered it as such. "Is that it? Will she wake up now?" she asked hurriedly.

"We've stopped the sedative," Abby said calmly. "But we've given her something for pain already. She's likely going to have some discomfort for a few days, but we'll help manage that."

Harper blinked tears from her eyes, the drops falling eagerly to the floor in their haste. "Thank you," she whispered, looking from Abby to Jackson.

"You're welcome," both doctors replied almost simultaneously.

The faint groaning coming from beneath them drew everyone's attention instantly.

Harper's brown eyes grew big as her gaze swept over her girlfriend's face, taking in the hesitant movement of the redhead's throat, the soft, raspy intake of breath, the tremor passing beneath the blankets of her eyelids. "Zoe?" she said, eagerly, desperately. "It's me, baby. I'm here. Come back to me, 'kay?"

The noise that came from Monroe's throat was more a wheeze than a syllable, but after a pause, a visible swallow followed by a faint grimace, then another intake of air, the pale lips moved sufficiently to utter, "H... Harp..." weakly.

Harper nodded fiercely, ignoring how the motion flung salty droplets all over herself as well as the blanket covering her lover. "It's me, Zoe!" she said excitedly. "It's me!"

Fair eyelashes shuddered as Monroe's eyes hesitantly opened, then shut, then barely opened again. "Harp..." she whispered, unable to vocalize any more effectively.

"Don't try to talk too much, Zoe," said Abby. "You've been on a ventilator for nearly two days. Your vocal cords and your throat are still swollen and inflamed."

"You nearly died, Zoe," Harper said, lifting Monroe's hand and kissing it over and over. "Your lungs got burned badly by the gas, but you're alive."

"You..." Monroe wheezed weakly.

"Baby, don't try to talk. I'm here. You'll be able to talk soon, but you still have to heal."

Monroe managed to keep her eyes open, sliding them in Harper's direction. Despite the burning in her chest and her throat, she weakly smiled at the blurry sight of the young woman she had given herself to. "You're... here," she whispered hoarsely.

"God, yes," Harper said quickly. "I'll always be here, Zoe. I'll always be here for you. And if I had been there with you when you got hurt, I've had crawled into that gas just to be with you."

Despite the cloudiness from the medication circulating through her system, Monroe's eyes sharpened momentarily as they focused tightly on Harper's face, worried and flushed beneath her blonde bangs. "That..." Monroe faintly wheezed with great effort, "would've... been..." She swallowed, grimacing once again but refocusing on her girlfriend. "Stupid." she finally finished.

"Yeah," Harper agreed with a brisk nod. "That's me. Stupid for you."

Monroe slowly shook her head. "Not... stupid," she managed to get out before she closed her eyes, obviously in pain. "Sweet..." she wheezed before falling asleep once more.

"It's the pain medication," Abby said, catching Harper's worried face when the blonde's head tilted up to look at her. "She needs to rest. You probably do too. Didn't you just get off your shift?"

Harper nodded again. "She's doing okay, right?" she asked Abby and Jackson, who had moved closer to the bed to examine Monroe again.

"Honestly?" Jackson replied, looking up. "The fact that she didn't wake up screaming in pain is a pretty good sign."

"We still don't know how fully her lungs will heal," Abby said with a motherly sigh. "There'll likely be some scarring, some loss of lung capacity, but there's no way to know how much at this point. It's also possible that once she heals, she can rebuild lung capacity to make up for most of the loss."

"She's here," Harper said quietly, running her fingertips lightly over Monroe's face. "And she's alive. Everything else is just a bonus." She looked up at Abby and smiled. "We'll deal with it, whatever it is. Thank you."

—O—

As they re-entered their quarters atop the tower in Polis, Clarke and Lexa were quiet, even after the guards had closed the doors behind them. They took already-familiar positions on the large couch, Lexa seated against one end of the couch, with Clarke lying down, her head in Lexa's lap, and for several minutes they were content to sit quietly, Lexa's long fingers gently passing through Clarke's blonde braids, being careful not to tug or pull her wife's hair. Clarke lightly ran her fingertips up and Lexa's leg, skin bared after the brunette had changed from her usual pants into shorts.

"Are you 'processing', still?" Lexa finally asked, a hint of amusement in her voice at the word Clarke had used downstairs, a concept her wife had to explain awkwardly before Lexa grasped the idea.

"Mmm," Clarke mumbled sleepily, making Lexa's smile grow at the adorable sound. "Lot to consider."

"Agreed," Lexa said quietly.

"All this time, when you talked about the Commander's Spirit, I just assumed you were talking about something abstract, something symbolic or metaphorical."

"What did you call it?" Lexa asked, her own curiosity piqued and fanned like a flame at the discussion she had held with Clarke down in the sacred vault below.

"A computer chip," Clarke said softly. "Or a processor unit, on a scale beyond anything we had on the Ark. That's what it sounds like, at least, from the description you could give me, and from the scar where it was implanted in your neck. Although I've never heard of a computer chip that existed symbiotically with a human like this one seems to do."

Lexa took a steadying breath. "I will try harder to ask Heda Prime," she said finally. "It is difficult to contact a specific Heda, but she is almost legendary. I have never heard from her that I know of, and if she has ever spoken to another Heda directly, that knowledge has been lost to time."

"And the nightblood!" Clarke said, excitement clear in her voice despite her speaking just above a whisper. "How is it still liquid, after nearly a hundred years?! What else can it do, besides scrub radiation and maintain the Commander's Spirit?" She shifted to look up at Lexa. "Is it still viable? When was the last time it had to be used?"

"Roughly twenty years ago, when three Hedas died in the span of a few months. No more nightbloods of sufficient age could be found at the time, so a conclave was held among the most esteemed warriors. The most worthy candidate was injected with one of the remaining vials before receiving the Spirit. The case holding the vials was designed to keep them safe until they were needed, and the nightblood itself shows no signs of aging." Lexa sighed quietly, looking down at Clarke fondly. "The existence of nightblood on its own, outside of a warrior's veins, remains one of the most tightly-kept secrets of my people, for reasons that are obvious to you now."

Clarke nodded. "If someone was able to inject themselves with a vial of it, they could become a challenger to the position of Heda, like that girl the Bitch Queen was hiding."

Lexa nodded, shifting her fingers from sliding through Clarke's hair to slowly, deliciously rubbing Clarke's shoulders. "Exactly," she sighed, the contact with her new wife relaxing her nearly as much as it seemed to be working on Clarke.

"What ever happened to her after that mess with Nia challenging you?" Clarke asked, closing her eyes as Lexa's strong hands gently, patiently worked the stiffness and tension out of her neck and shoulders.

"I killed her," Lexa said quietly. Feeling Clarke's reflexive tensing of her body, she added, "It was quick. Though she was involved in Nia's plot to overthrow me, she did not directly attempt to harm you, so I granted her that mercy."

Clarke swallowed and forced herself to calm down, to not argue or challenge her wife, who knew much more about this culture than she did, despite her efforts at learning. "She would always have been a threat, wouldn't she?" she asked softly.

"Yes," Lexa answered just as quietly. "Not just to me, but to you as well. Even the younger nightbloods would have been in danger had she lived. She had been raised by Nia, trained as a warrior and likely as an assassin, and letting her live would have resulted in more deaths than just hers."

Clarke slowly turned over in Lexa's lap, and despite her position as Heda Lexa felt her heart begin to race and her pulse quicken as she anticipated Clarke's disapproval, and her likely very vocal dissent. But when Clarke's blue eyes settled on Lexa's green ones, the only emotions the Heda could see in Clarke's gaze were acceptance, sadness and love.

"I know why you had to do it," Clarke said, reaching up to grasp Lexa's jaw, smiling when she felt her proud warrior wife lean more into the comforting touch. "And I'm okay with it."

Lexa kept her mouth and her eyes tightly closed. As much as she was capable of and willing to do what needed to be done, she knew that such things still bothered Clarke. But Clarke was a leader as well, and she understood that hard, terrible things sometimes had to be done to protect others. "Thank you," she simply said, hoping that Clarke could feel all that she wasn't saying with words.

A knock at the door to their chambers (for that was a development that had only occurred today, after Clarke realized that her few possessions had been moved into Lexa's rooms while they had been in the tower's basement) managed to tug both women from their private moment of relaxation.

"What is it?" Lexa called out, more than a hint of harshness in the tone of her voice.

"The person you asked for, Heda," came the reply from the other side of the double doors.

"He may enter," Lexa replied, not stopping despite the questioning look on Clarke's face. Lexa patted the couch in front of her, between her legs, and after a moment's hesitation, Clarke turned and leaned back into Lexa's arms again. However, as Clarke turned, she noticed that Lexa had two knives lying on the floor beside the couch, within easy reach.

As the doors opened, two guards came in, flanking a cleaned John Murphy. His face was bruised and scabbed in a few places, but his usual expression of self-assurance and condescension was firmly in place, Clarke noted. Although it _did_ seem slightly subdued from his baseline at the moment, he was doing his best to conceal that fact, and Clarke would have missed his heightened concern if she hadn't dealt with him so much over the last year.

"John Murphy kom Skaikru," Lexa said flatly as the guards stopped well over twenty feet away from the couch holding her and Clarke, with Murphy stopping as well between the two large warriors.

"Commander," Murphy replied, pleasantly enough. "Clarke. Glad neither of you got killed earlier. Especially since that guy planned on blaming me for it."

"Titus has been dealt with," Lexa said curtly. "Permanently. I take threats on the life of my wife very seriously."

"Wife?" Murphy replied, his eyebrows raising slightly as he looked at Clarke again. "Congratulations," he said, with only a hint of sarcasm audible, which was really better than Clarke was expecting. "Sorry I didn't bring a gift, but I kind of didn't get an invitation."

Lexa looked slightly confused, but Clarke couldn't help but snicker quietly. "It's an old custom," Clarke told her wife softly, her eyes promising to explain later. "What _are_ you doing here, Murphy?" she asked.

He rolled his eyes slightly. "Are you talking about me getting kidnapped and brought here to this city so I could be the scapegoat for Baldy trying to kill you, or do you mean more why am I here in this room right now?" he said, unable to keep the seemingly omnipresent snark out of his voice.

Clarke felt Lexa stiffen behind her; she sat up to let Lexa stand, not surprised when she saw Lexa pluck one of the daggers from the floor as she rose to her feet. It was then that Clarke realized that Murphy wasn't bound or restrained in any way, other than the two guards flanking him.

"You are in this room right now because I would like to learn more about what Titus's plans were and how they involved you," Lexa said curtly. "I have already heard that he planned on killing Clarke with the gun and blaming you; Clarke herself has told me that much. What I am more interested in would be anything else he might have discussed with you before his attempt on Clarke's life."

"Well, he was freaking out because I had something that had what he called the 'sacred symbol' or something like that on it," Murphy said calmly. "Then he took me into some secret room with paintings on the walls and—"

Lexa's hand shot up so quickly that Clarke turned to see where the knife had struck Murphy; it took her a full second to register that Lexa hadn't thrown the knife at all, just raised her other hand to point at the guards. "Leave us!" Lexa said to the pair of warriors, who immediately shifted uncomfortably rather than comply. "NOW!" she shouted, her tone clearly declaring she would brook no argument.

As the two guards left obediently, if hesitantly, Lexa continued to glare at them until the doors were closed. Clarke found herself moving to the edge of the couch and sitting up straight; she hoped that it hadn't been entirely obvious that she had also moved the second knife to within easy reach of her hand.

"Sit down, John Murphy," Lexa said in a voice quieter but not the least bit more friendly, gesturing to a chair closer to the couch but significantly farther away from the doors. "My wife and I would like to hear more of your story," she continued as she returned to the couch, seating herself beside Clarke, idly playing with the dagger still in her hand as she kept her eyes fixed on Murphy. After several seconds, Murphy finally dropped into the seat Lexa had indicated.

"I must say, I like _this_ approach a lot more than trying to beat the answers out of me like Baldy," Murphy said as he leaned back into the comfortable chair.

Lexa acknowledged the statement with a raised eyebrow and a hint of a nod. "You are a most curious person, John Murphy," her face neutral but with what Clarke recognized a look of true interest.

"And why is that?" Murphy replied, sitting up and leaning forward. "Because I'm only out for myself?" he asked, a challenge in his voice.

"No," Lexa replied calmly, not raising her voice or altering the tone of her voice. "We are all 'out for ourselves,' as you put it. You just happen to be almost ruthlessly honest about it. _That_ is one of your most interesting qualities."

Murphy grinned slightly. "Never heard it put that way before, but, hey, whatever you say. You're the boss."

Lexa's laser-like gaze never shifted or wavered as she kept her eyes locked on Murphy, and he awkwardly shifted in his seat under its intensity. "You were present for the massacre of the civilians outside TonDC, but you did not participate; in fact, you tried to prevent the killings. You willingly left Skaikru and hold no loyalty to them, but you refused to help Titus kill Clarke. You seem to follow no one and have faith in nothing beyond yourself, but you somehow came into possession of an object marked with one of our most sacred symbols." Though her eyes remained locked on Murphy, Lexa's hand sought out her wife's, gently grasping Clarke's fingers.

"Clarke and I might not have the smoothest history, but that doesn't mean I want to take the fall for her being killed. Not exactly a fan of a slow, lingering death, if you know what I mean."

At the same time Clarke realized that Lexa knew more about Murphy's past history than she had realized, she was also struck with the recognition that the true depth of Lexa's knowledge of Murphy was even more than the brunette was letting on. Clarke turned her attention to her wife, and now Lexa let her brilliant green gaze shift to Clarke's inquisitive blue, matching the blonde's unspoken but evident curiosity with quiet confidence.

After a few moments of silent communication, Lexa and Clarke both turned to regard Murphy once more, but Lexa's next words were forestalled by a vigorous knocking on her doors, followed by the doors opening immediately.

Lexa's shift in tone was immediate and clear; her eyes were flashing with anger at the intrusion into her personal space as she shot to her feet.

"Heda!" shouted one of the guards, who fell to his knees, praying silently he wouldn't feel the sharp bite of the Commander's sword at his neck when he was finished speaking. "The Ice Nation! King Roan has been attacked, the Ice Queen's body stolen!"

His words were so unexpected that Lexa did indeed still completely, considering what he was saying.

"Her body?" Clarke asked, confused. "I thought the Clans burned the dead to free their souls."

Lexa swallowed, slightly embarrassed at having an act of spite revealed this way to Clarke. "I forbade them from burning Nia's body," she said. "I didn't think she deserved the release of her soul being freed."

Clarke looked at Lexa. There was more her wife wasn't saying yet. Despite her wanting to reach out and touch Lexa, to tell her it was okay, Lexa had to make the decision to tell her on her own.

Finally Lexa turned to look at Clarke, the fire in her eyes now replaced with coldness. "I ordered her body to be torn apart and the pieces mounted in the Ice Nation's capital, to be on display as a warning to those who would challenge me." _Or threaten those I love_ , she thought, but she dared not voice that. She had let Costia go long before she met Clarke, but Clarke felt so powerfully and thought so quickly, she might think that Lexa's heart still was partially Costia's, and Lexa did not want to give the woman she loved something else to worry about, particularly when there truly was nothing for Clarke to worry about. Lexa's heart and love belonged to the girl who fell from the sky, and no one else would—or could—claim either one ever again.

Lexa returned her attention to the guards still kneeling before her. "Ready horses and supplies for Wanheda and for me. We will leave with a small force of twenty warriors tonight to assess the situation for ourselves. Have another three hundred ready to depart if we need reinforcements."

"Sha, Heda!" replied both guards, rising to their feet.

"Has Indra left yet?" Lexa called out, making both guards stop in their tracks as they hurried to exit the leader's chambers.

"She and Oktevia both prepare to leave for the blockade of the Skaikru," replied the first guard, turning to face Lexa again. "They have not left yet, Heda, that I am aware of."

"Tell Indra I need her to maintain the blockade around the Skaikru; Wanheda will be there as soon as possible to deal with the new Skaikru leader and his treachery, but it might take two weeks or longer for her to arrive."

The guards nodded, bowed, then again turned, this time completing their task of exiting their Heda's chambers without further delay.

"It appears I might have... made a mistake in defiling Nia's body like I did," Lexa said softly, her eyes fixed on Clarke's boots. "In displaying it where it would stir up the most discontent amongst those still harboring loyalty to her."

Clarke stood from the couch, walking over to her wife who continued to stand in the middle of the room, eyes firmly directed at the floor. She hesitated slightly before gathering Lexa into her arms, but then the hesitation was gone, and her arms closed around Lexa. Without a word, Lexa returned the embrace, neither of them speaking and neither of them crying, Clarke silently offering acceptance and understanding without judgment, the same as Lexa had offered to her.

After a few minutes, the two of them finally relaxed their embrace enough to look at each other and smile warmly.

"Thank you," Lexa murmured before placing a soft, light kiss on Clarke's lips. "My houmon."

Clarke's smile grew wider and brighter. ""You're welcome," she said.

"I'm not used to having someone support me," Lexa admitted, allowing herself to smile slightly.

"Get used to it," Clarke replied confidently. "I'm not going anywhere."

Lexa turned to look at Murphy again, with Clarke stepping to the side but keeping her arm around Lexa as they stood against each other. "John Murphy, I would greatly appreciate you staying here in Polis as my guest until we return," Lexa said.

"Is that a polite way of saying 'don't leave or else'?" he asked, his natural skepticism a large part of what had kept him alive so far.

Lexa shook her head slowly. "Not at all. You truly _are_ free to leave if you wish. You have done no wrong to my people, to Clarke or to me. But after what Titus did to you, I feel that we owe you something in return. Hospitality, food, clothing, at the very least."

Murphy looked around, nodding his head at the simple but clean elegance of Lexa's quarters. "Well, if the rest of this place is like here, I might just take you up on that," he finally said. "For a while."

"Please stay as my guest until we return," Lexa said. "You will be given quarters in this tower and your needs attended to. Clarke and I might be a week or two, possibly longer, but I would very much like to find out all you know about Titus, our sacred symbol, and how you became involved in the former Flamekeeper's plot."

Lexa paused, finally allowing the barest hint of a cold smile to form at the edges of her mouth. "And then, John Murphy, I would like to offer you a job."

—O—

 **Author's Afterword:** There are sooo many good Clexa stories on AO3! Feel free to look at my bookmarks and subscriptions there (my account over there is **kurrent** , as might be expected) and check a few out. I've also recently found the incredible writer **coeurdastronaute** , who has a tumblr page under that name with TONS of Clexa stories found there. Her epic stories "The Terminal" and "The Wrestle" are my two favorites of hers, but pretty much everything she writes and posts on her tumblr is worth reading. Seriously, she's that good. There are a few tiny typos at times, but I'll willingly ignore those for the sheer beauty and power in her writing. She's a true artist and deserves lots more recognition.

Okay, next chapter will have the actual meeting between our two power couples! I'm looking quite forward to what's coming next. See you soon!


	4. Ch 4: Out of the Tundra & into the Storm

**Author's Note:** Going to warn people that there's some significant violence in this chapter. It gets gruesome at one point, so be prepared.

Cover Art for the story is from the LexaRecovery tumblr. Stay strong together.

 _I do not own the television show "The 100" or make any claims upon it or its characters. Similarly, I do not own Frozen, its characters or any Disney characters or property. All these characters are used under the concept of Fair Use, and I make no profit or income from using any of them._

 **Our Fight Is Not Over**

by Jo K.

Chapter 4: Out of the Tundra and into the Storm

 _So if you've got the guts mister_

 _Yeah if you've got the balls_

 _If you think it's your time_

 _Then step up to the line_

 _And bring on your wrecking ball_

-Bruce Springsteen, "Wrecking Ball"

—O—

"What the hell is _that?"_

Lexa's frown only deepened at Clarke's words as the blonde looked through the spyglass at the scintillating curtain of light between the two Azgeda apparently guarding it. "I've never seen anything like that before," Lexa admitted quietly. "But judging from the guards around it and the tracks leading to it, it's most likely what we're looking for."

Clarke lowered the long tapered scope and turned her head to look at Lexa, being careful not to startle her horse with any sudden movements. Lexa's warpaint was present in its full glory, covering her eyes with its inky tendrils trailing down her sharp cheeks like feathers... or tears. "Do you seriously believe that story about a sorcerer who can open a door to different worlds?"

Lexa turned to look at her mate, allowing herself to smile slightly at Clarke; her blonde wife was wearing her own Wanheda warpaint, a design suggestive of black feathers stretching from her temples horizontally to cover both her eyes, leaving bare her nose and the space between her eyes to produce a stark contrast with Clarke's lighter skin and the oily black of the paint. "You grew up in space and came to the ground. Is it really so hard to believe?" she asked calmly.

"That's explainable with technology and science," Clarke argued. "But... magic? Seriously, Lexa?"

"Who says it is magic? Why not some form of science or technology that we have never heard of?"

Clarke nodded weakly. "I guess," she admitted softly.

"Those we captured certainly believed. They said they saw the door open in midair before their eyes."

"Yeah, after all those innocent people were sacrificed," Clarke added, unable to resist the cold shiver that ran down her neck and back. "If that's what magic is about, maybe we're better off without it."

"Maybe so," Lexa replied, turning back to regard the shining doorway on the tundra below them. "But we cannot afford to disregard it. Whether magic is real or not, the Azgeda obviously believe strongly enough in it to rebel against King Roan and kill dozens of people as sacrifices."

Clarke sighed softly, not wanting to alert the two remaining Azgeda of the presence of her and Lexa's small group of riders. "Do they really think they can bring Nia back from the dead, or is this just some kind of trick?"

Lexa shook her head. "Before I saw that... _thing_ floating in the air down there, I would have said they were all delusional. But now..."

"It could be an optical illusion of some kind," Clarke said. "Like a hologram. A projected image. It might not be a doorway at all."

Lexa considered that. "What would be required to create a 'hologram'?" she asked quietly.

"It could be done with a small projector, a device smaller than a saddle. We had similar technology on the Ark." She frowned. "But the Azgeda shouldn't have technology like that. They wouldn't be able to use it either, even if they did have it."

There was silence for a few seconds before Lexa took in a breath, then exhaled it slowly. "Carl Emerson might, though," she said softly.

"Shit," Clarke swore softly. "I had forgotten about him."

Lexa turned around in her saddle to look at the warriors behind Clarke and her. "Four of you, make your way down to those guards. Take your time. Capture them alive if possible. _Do not_ let them escape."

"Be careful around that light down there," Clarke added once she was sure Lexa was done. "Whether it's really a magic doorway, as ridiculous as that sounds, or just a trick, try not to get near it if possible."

Seeing their soldiers look to her, Lexa lifted her chin slightly and hardened her gaze. "Wanheda does not need my approval for you to carry out her orders," she said coolly.

"Sha, Heda, Wanheda," the warriors said quietly, understanding the need to not raise their voices as they began to dismount their horses.

—O—

As Harper drifted back from the embrace of sleep into the world of the waking, she became aware of intense green eyes staring at her. As her sight focused in on them, she smiled and reached out, resting her hand on her lover's left hip. "Morning, baby," she murmured, smiling at Zoe Monroe.

"Hi," Monroe replied, smiling despite the constant aching in her chest and throat. It and getting out of breath with any exertion were annoying, but it was bearable, especially now that Harper was back in her arms.

"Thank you for resting your voice," the blonde said, leaning forward to place a soft kiss on Monroe's cute nose. "I make enough noise for both of us, anyway," Harper added, a knowing smirk spreading across her face.

The redhead's lips parted as she smiled broadly and toothily. She tilted her head forward to kiss Harper's forehead, leaving unspoken the dichotomy between Harper's normally quiet, soft-spoken demeanor and the sweet blonde's shockingly filthy and enthusiastically _loud_ mouth when the two of them were having sex. Hearing some of the creative things Harper spit and shouted while in the heat of passion sent Zoe's heart into overdrive, but it was also for this reason that their tent was far away from most everyone else in Arkadia. However, the two of them had grown to love having the feeling of more space to themselves, of being able to wake up, relieve themselves, take a bath and appreciate the feeling of being alive, of being surrounded by life and color and beauty rather than the constant presence of other people and an atmosphere of sterility, like they had endured for the vast majority of their lives.

"I've been thinking about what you said yesterday," Monroe said, her voice still scratchy and weak.

"And you're thinking about doing it?" Harper asked, unable to conceal the eagerness in her voice. "I know Dr. Griffin and Dr. Jackson are wanting to start training people as assistants and nurses sooner rather than later."

"I think I'll try," Monroe said after a brief pause. "I mean, I need something to do so I feel useful while my lungs heal, and I'm sure as hell not able to carry out guard duties right now."

Harper felt her brown eyes start to water with happiness at the thought of her partner moving into a field less dangerous than being a soldier, particularly while Pike was still in charge, picking fights with grounders left and right. "You're not useless to me, Zoe, and you never will be," she managed to choke out, punctuating her sentence with a gentle kiss on Monroe's pink lips, still slightly chapped from the endotracheal tube rubbing against them for two days.

"I don't know if I'm smart enough or patient enough to be a doctor, but at least a nurse or a field medic or something, right?" Monroe said, half asking, half hoping. "That way I'm doing something constructive instead of just lying around here keeping your sleeping bag warm."

"Oh, you rat," Harper laughed. "That is a _very_ important job, keeping our sleeping bag warm. My feet get cold. You know that."

When Zoe closed her eyes and shifted closer to Harper, tugging Harper tightly against her as well, Harper knew her girlfriend was trying to work through something in her mind. Rather than push, which likely would cause the redhead to reflexively withdraw back into the steel vault of her psyche, Harper instead lightly placed a kiss over first Zoe's right eye, then her left, before squeezing lightly with both arms wrapped around Monroe. "I'm here for you, Zoe," she whispered tenderly. "Whenever you want to talk about it, I'll be right here. I swear."

Harper had expected Monroe to stiffen slightly, maybe even pull away some, although she hoped they knew each other well enough for that emotional retreat to not happen again with Zoe. She was _not_ expecting Zoe to utterly break down in tears, body shaking as it was wracked with sobs made painful by her damaged lungs.

"Hey," Harper whispered, holding on tightly and trying to offer as much support as she could to the brave girl she had fallen in love with. "Hey, baby, it's okay, whatever it is. It's gonna be okay. Shhh." When she couldn't stop Monroe's crying, Harper closed her eyes against her own tears, now sliding across her face where they were lying prone. She began to hum a nonsense song she remembered from her own childhood, a lullaby whose words were mostly lost to time and memory but whose tune was indelibly imprinted on Harper's mind. Her mother used to sing it to her when she was a child and scared of something—the dark, space, shadows, a shot, the list was long—and its melody always seemed to soothe Harper's gnawing anxiety and raw feelings.

For long minutes Harper held Zoe Monroe, humming softly and tracing little geometric patterns through the thin fabric of Monroe's undershirt as she held her girlfriend tightly. Finally, after nearly ten minutes, Monroe's body began to still, and briefly Harper thought her girlfriend had fallen asleep. But then she felt Monroe's body shift, and Harper opened her eyes to see red, injected eyes staring back at her, rimmed with tears. "What is it, Zoe?" Harper asked, her own heart breaking with sympathy for the young woman she loved.

Monroe's mouth opened, and at first nothing came out. She swallowed, then tried again, finally able to coax a weak, shaky voice from her ravaged throat. "When I thought I was..." she hesitantly uttered, "...you know, dead, I—" She closed her eyes again, for several seconds this time before she could speak further. "I... I thought I deserved it. To be dead."

Harper shook her head slowly. "No, baby, no..." she whispered.

Monroe nodded, shortly but sharply. "Yeah, I did," she replied, not wanting to argue but needing Harper to understand what she was feeling. "And I still do."

"God, Zoe..." Harper said, knowing how difficult it was to dissuade her girlfriend once she made up her mind on something. "You don't have to punish yourself!"

"Somebody does!" Monroe spat back, harsher than she meant, and when she saw Harper's brown eyes widen in surprise, she feared she might have just pissed off the one person she knew, absolutely _knew_ was on her side no matter what. "I'm sorry, Harp," she muttered, her eyes shifting up to look anywhere but at Harper.

But no angry words followed, and Harper's arms remained firmly cinched around Monroe's short but strong torso. It was just the sounds of the morning dawning in the forest less than a hundred feet from their tent, and the soft rhythm of two people breathing quietly in the small tent.

"They didn't even fight back."

Harper blinked her eyes open at the words, spoken so softly that at first she thought she had imagined them, or maybe dreamed them. But seeing the anguish and regret in Monroe's green eyes told Harper the truth, as did those normally daring eyes nervously looking away.

"The army outside the gates here. We were killing them," Monroe said, her voice just above a whisper, "and they didn't fight back, not until the very end." Her reddened eyes slid back to look at Harper again. "It was so different than what we were expecting, from what Pike had been telling us, about how they were just waiting to catch us off-guard and slaughter us all. Even once it was clear we were killing them, they hesitated, like either they didn't want to fight us, or they _couldn't_ fight us."

"They had been ordered to protect us," Harper said softly. "At all costs, I bet, knowing Clarke. And not _just_ Clarke. If their Commander gave them a direct order, they're going to follow it." Harper shivered briefly. "She scares the shit out of me."

Monroe looked away again, her hesitancy to meet her lover's eyes a gesture both telling and terrifying to Harper. "Then I guess they were following orders," Monroe said. "Just like we were."

Harper watched the tears gather in Monroe's eyes. She stayed silent, just holding Monroe and trying to comfort her, telling her lover that she was right there, that she wasn't going to push her away or criticize her or judge her for any reason. Others on the Ark had been rude and downright ugly to Zoe because of her not fitting easily into what most people still thought of as masculine and feminine roles, and that was a large part of why the redhead had developed the fiery temper, chip on her shoulder and fearlessness bordering on recklessness that made up a significant chunk of her personality. Above all else, Harper was never going to judge Zoe, or expect her to be anything other than just Zoe Monroe.

When Monroe started crying again, Harper was ready, whispering words of love and support into her partner's ears, gently rubbing her back, placing soft kisses on her head and forehead while letting Zoe cry out the conflict and pain tearing through her body and spirit.

"They weren't going to attack us," Monroe whispered, agonizingly. "Were they?" she asked, looking back into Harper's dark brown eyes.

Harper shook her head, not bothering to hide her own tears when her partner broke down into sobs again as Monroe was faced with the sickening realization that sometimes simply following orders did not absolve one of stains of the soul.

—O—

As soon as the first of her warriors moved, Lexa knew the attempt to capture the Azgeda guards was going to fail. Consciously she hadn't noticed any one thing, any single factor that indicated the surprise attack was going to be unsuccessful, but her mind was already screaming at her to _do something_ before the first arrow had been loosed and the first knife had been thrown.

"They're not going to get them both!" Lexa snapped, kicking her horse into motion without further hesitation. Clarke dug her heels into her horse's side without delay, already leaning forward and increasing her speed to catch up with Lexa as the brunette steered her horse down the rocky path toward the shimmering curtain of lights among the bloody stains scattered across the tundra below. The rest of the scouting party followed within seconds, trailing their leaders down the worn path along the side of the ridge.

By the time the two scouts noticed the horses on the bluff above them, one of the Azgeda already had both an arrow in his chest and a knife in his thigh; he drew his sword to meet the other Trikru warrior charging him, but his injured leg buckled, taking him down to a knee as he readied to meet his attacker.

The second Azgeda only suffered a minor wound to his right arm when the first arrow hit him, and the second arrow as well as the thrown knife missed him entirely. Instead of readying his spear to retaliate, though, he turned and ran directly for the billowing, scintillating wall of light behind him.

Lexa cursed in Trigedasleng—whatever word she used, Clarke hadn't learned it yet—and urged her horse faster, drawing her sword as she galloped toward the fleeing Azgeda furiously. But she was still several seconds away when the man, layered in white and brown furs and patchwork clothes, ran into the wall of light—

And disappeared.

Lexa's eyes had just registered that he was no longer visible through the translucent curtain of colors before they likewise saw that the shimmering wall of light was beginning to flicker. "It's closing!" she shouted, leaning forward, leaning her upper body over her mount's broad neck, coaxing as much speed as possible from the white mare.

Clarke's ears heard Lexa's cry, and she also noticed the colorful waves begin to waver, fade and flicker, like a screen beginning to go bad back on the Ark. Briefly she thought about being trapped wherever this gate led—and now she had to admit it was indeed a gateway to another place, after watching the fleeing Azgeda vanish after stepping through it. But then her eyes fell on Lexa's back, charging ahead at full speed toward the gateway, and Clarke knew that no matter whatever happened on the other side of that doorway, Lexa would be there with her. And that was enough.

Shifting her own weight forward and silently thanking Lexa for teaching her more about riding horses, Clarke spurred her own mount to go faster, grimly fixing it in her mind that wherever Lexa went, Clarke was going to be with her.

Most of the Trikru party made it through the mystical gateway before it finally collapsed, silently but with a brilliant flash of light that briefly burned itself onto the retinas of those who had not reached the gate in time. The four of them, along with the four warriors now on foot, slowly gathered themselves back together, shifting uncomfortably as they considered how their report was going to be received once they returned to Polis.

—O—

The first thing Clarke noticed when they emerged from the magical portal, only an instant after they entered it, was that it was now darker, with the sky no longer blue but now overcast and a dark gray that portended ill weather.

But then the cold struck her with the force of an opened airlock.

It was bitterly cold, colder than Clarke had ever experienced. Growing up on the Ark had given her some degree of tolerance to cold, as retaining heat in the metal structure of the space station was always an uphill battle, as it was surrounded by the ultimate chill of the void. But _this_...

This was cold sharp enough to make her lungs ache instantly, to make her hands sting and her neck burn from the bitter touch. All around them was the brilliant white of snow, the shine muted by the dark skies and the blowing snow around them, and Clarke worryingly saw no sign of shelter around them save for distant trees and mountains looming before them that made Mount Weather look as imposing as the tiniest of anthills.

—O—

Miles away in Arendelle Castle, Elin and Erin jerked upright in their bed, screaming incoherently, their long, straight blonde hair rumpled and mussed with sweat and the tossings of sleep thoroughly disturbed by nightmares that refused to yield and a burning sensation that something had _changed_... and not for the better.

—O—

The screams of battle jerked Clarke's focus back to her immediate vicinity. A pack of men and women, most likely Azgeda judging from the thick furs and clothes wrapped around them in the usual Grounder style, was charging them and the warriors who had made it through the portal, roughly a dozen of them, Clarke estimated hurriedly.

Her and Lexa's group looked to be outnumbered two to one, she noted angrily. So _of_ _course_ Lexa would charge them.

Most of their escort followed their Heda's lead, yelling, drawing weapons and charging forward at the approaching Azgeda warriors running toward them on foot, angling to hit the Azgeda at different points to hopefully split them apart into smaller groups. Four stayed behind to guard Clarke.

Turning her horse around and trying her best to ignore the cold assaulting her even through her jacket and pants, Clarke was the first to notice that the gate they had entered was now gone. She was also the first to notice the force of Azgeda charging them from their rear, a group nearly as numerous as the force Lexa and most of their warriors were now racing through.

"It's a trap," Clarke muttered to herself at first, then yelling, "It's a trap, Lexa!" over her shoulder, hoping the blowing wind would allow her words to reach her wife.

Some of the Azgeda stopped their approach from the rear, raising bows and loosing a volley of arrows. However, the wind was blowing so fiercely that as Clarke watched with nauseous fascination, the arrows' forward flight gave way to wobbling awkwardly, then flying ineffectually to their right as the powerful winds blew them off course.

Gripping the reins of her horse tightly and giving them a firm, long tug to still her mount, Clarke drew her pistol and aimed at the Azgeda archers, gathered together nicely in a small bunch. The sharp crack of her pistol was followed immediately by one of the archers jerking backwards and falling, with the report of a second shot having the same effect, then a third.

When she saw the Azgedas' drive forward slow, Clarke had her own horse take several steps forward as she lowered her pistol to the side. One of the Azgeda, a monster of a man, shoved his way to the front of their number, bellowing something in Trigedasleng; Clarke couldn't understand all he said, but it was enough to get the Azgeda moving forward again.

Clarke gave another firm tug on her mount's reins, then she held her pistol with both hands, aiming carefully before putting a shot into the brute's face through his garish mask, blowing part of his head out the back of his skull.

"I am Wanheda!" she screamed against the wind, pleased when the Azgeda began to inch backward at hearing her name. "Slayer of the Mountain, Commander of Death! All of you forfeit your lives by attacking me!" To accentuate her point, she aimed and squeezed off three more shots, felling two more Azgeda and hopefully wounding a third. When the Ice People turned and broke into a panicked run, Clarke allowed a fierce smile to cross her face. "Looks like this damn name might be good for something after all," she said to herself.

She looked at the group of four warriors mounted, holding station around her. "Three of you, hit them from behind, kill a few more if you can." After just a second, she added, "Take advantage of their cowardice," pleased as she considered how it sounded like something Lexa would say to their warriors.

"Sha, Wanheda!" two of the warriors shouted, with a third joining them just a split second later. The three of them sent their horses forward at a brisk pace through the snow, slower than they were running on the flat tundra but still much faster than the Azgeda fleeing on foot.

Clarke turned her horse again, in time to see Lexa lead a second pass through the now-thinned and scattered ranks of the Azgeda initially charging them. Lexa's sword nearly cleaved one woman's head completely off her body as the Heda slashed first to her right, then to her left as she carved deeply into the shoulder of a spearman trying unsuccessfully to unseat her from her mount.

However, Clarke could see a glistening sheet of blood on the side of Lexa's horse, standing out in gruesome contrast to the horse's white hide, and several seconds later, when the horse began to list to the side immediately after Lexa had trampled another Azgeda fighter, Clarke wasn't surprised when Lexa had to half-leap, half-roll out of the saddle onto the snowy ground as her horse fell over.

Clarke sent her horse forward, digging the heels of her boots into the dark stallion's side viciously as she steered toward her mate. She fired four more shots as she rode, targeting the half-dozen Azgeda making their way toward the fallen Lexa at full runs. Whether it was their shoes or their experience, the snow simply didn't seem to slow these warriors down, but Clarke's volley of shots put two of them down, one seemingly permanently and the other writhing on the ground in pain.

Clarke jerked on the reins to stop her horse between Lexa and the swarming Azgeda, removing her left foot from the stirrup to let Lexa hook her foot in it and pull herself up behind Clarke. "They have a wagon of some sort just ahead," Lexa said, her breathing accelerated with adrenaline. "With only a few of them guarding it."

"You want me to head there?" Clarke asked as she set her horse in motion again, wheeling to her left just before a spear flew through the space they were occupying seconds earlier.

"Yes," Lexa said, drawing a short sword with her left hand; her regular sword was still firmly held in her right hand, as it had been the first thing she had retrieved after she came out of her tumble from the falling horse. "They're trying to keep us from it, so it must have something in it."

Clarke did as her wife recommended, racing forward while following a path well clear of the melee first beside, then behind them. "You don't think it was just a trap?" she asked over her shoulder.

"It was definitely a trap," Lexa said, her voice deep and timbre bold with excitement, especially this close to Clarke's ear. "But hopefully we can turn it to our advantage."

As they closed on the wagon, Clarke could see several Azgeda move forward into a semi-circle to meet them, spears readied. Another Azgeda ducked beneath the thick cover draped over something that looked large and boxy, taller than the man now standing atop the flat wagon; as Clarke watched him, she caught a glint of something metallic in his hand, and something about it just felt wrong.

"Stop, Clarke!" Lexa shouted, nearly in her ear. In response, Clarke grabbed the reins and pulled back, hard, bringing their horse to a skidding stop in the snow, the beast anxiously panting and stepping. "Their spears are set against a charge," Lexa said, her voice calmer but still with a tone of command in it.

"They're not set against this," Clarke said grimly, lifting her pistol and firing several shots just a second apart, pleased when she saw three of the Azgeda fall to the ground. She kept count of how many shots she had left—three now—before needing to change clips; she needed to remember to find the shell casings when they were done so they could be reloaded later.

A roar and a scream from beneath the wagon's covering suddenly drew everyone's attention; the thick cover seemed to explode outward, followed by the largest animal Clarke had ever seen, covered with fur a dirty pale yellow but now smeared with crimson blood along its muzzle and broad neck. Numbly Clarke's mind placed the creature with an image deep in her memory of a land animal called a bear, but there was very little that old picture of bears from her school had in common with this behemoth.

A jerk of its upper body sent something furry and bloody flying, and it only while it was tumbling through the air that Clarke realized it was half of an Azgeda. What her eyes were more focused on was the shiny, distincively shaped object flying through the air with the body, separating from one of the mauled corpse's now-dead hands.

"Oh God, it's a reaper gun," Clarke said, her eyes snapping back to the pack of Azgeda before them, who were being torn apart by the killing machine, moving faster than Clarke could believe and shredding the warriors with a terrifying strength.

"Back to the others," Lexa said, her own voice shaky with trepidation. "Hurry, Clarke!" she said, sheathing her short sword so she could grip Clarke's waist tightly with her left arm. "Hurry! The _azkripa_ will tear us apart with just us two fighting it!"

"Can we outrun it?" Clarke asked as she turned their horse around, sending it racing back to where the rest of the Trikru were finishing off the scattered Azgeda.

"No," Lexa replied flatly, holding Clarke tightly as the horse pounded across the snowy ground. "And something is different about that azkripa, as well. It seems faster and almost... berserk."

"One of them injected it with the Red, the same drug the Mountain used to create the Reapers."

Lexa felt her black blood grow disturbingly cold. "Are you sure, Clarke?" she asked, hoping her wife was wrong.

But Clarke nodded. "I saw him go beneath that tarp, probably where they were keeping it, and he was carrying on the injector guns they used to dose the Reapers. Then the wagon just... exploded."

" _Shit!"_ Lexa swore in Trigedasleng. _That_ word Clarke recognized.

"That's just bad in every fucking way possible," Clarke swore softly, her mind turning over the same implications as her wife's. "Bullets weren't very effective against the pauana."

"I expect they will be even less effective against the azkripa," Lexa said as they reached the rest of the Trikru warriors, now standing amidst the bodies of the Azegda's initial attack group. "Its hide and fat are thicker. It ignores arrows like they were insect bites."

Clarke stopped the horse and turned it around, only to feel Lexa slide off the horse, landing close to the warriors.

" _Ready spears!"_ Lexa shouted in Trigedasleng. _"They loosed a crazed azkripa upon us, its lust for blood doubled by reaper venom! We cannot outrun it, so we will kill it!"_

To their credit, the Trikru moved to obey immediately, if a bit frantically. Four of them took position kneeling in the snow, with long spears pointed at the azkripa where it continued to butcher the last Azgeda close to the wagon. The Trikru tamped the blunt ends of their spears through the snow, trying to get as firm a grip against the frozen ground as they could to properly affix their spears for the bear's inevitable charge.

The other Trikru formed a loose line between the spear phalanx and Lexa and Clarke, who had now dismounted the horse to stand beside Lexa, her pistol in her hand again. She took a moment to eject the clip, swapping it for a full one now rather than have to do it the middle of a chaotic melee with the azkripa. She tucked the partially full clip inside a pocket on her belt, beside another full clip for her pistol.

Seeing Lexa examining her closely, Clarke smiled grimly. "I have my big knife on my right thigh," she said, enjoying Lexa's approving smile and nod at her preparation.

"You will probably want something with more reach, should it come down to that," Lexa added, her voice becoming more distant and analytical. She was having to fall back more into the cold, battle-focused side of her, the part that was Heda and bloodshed and ruthlessness through and through, to keep her emotions from overwhelming her with the burning desire to put Clarke onto that horse and send her away as fast as possible.

Clarke nodded after several seconds, picking up a spear from a fallen Azgeda and driving it into the ground, point first, leaving it standing up next to her. "Thanks for the advice," she said, trying to make her voice as light as possible despite the situation. "Do you have these things in Trikru territory?"

Lexa nodded. "Yes, but their coloring is different, brown or black. And they're not as large. Still bigger than a man, but not as massive as that thing."

A guttural roar drew their attention back to the polar bear. It was standing on its hind legs like a man, bellowing loudly, its muzzle, paws and belly now smeared with blood and gore. Despite the terrifying sight and what it indicated, Clarke found herself memorizing the image, fixing it in her mind to draw later, to capture the raw, otherworldly scene and the terrible beauty in the juxtaposition of the bear, the snowy plains now shot with blood, the tall mountains in the distance, the stormy sky above and behind.

It would make for an incredible picture, should she live to draw it.

The azkripa fell to all fours and began to charge at the assembled group of Trikru, all positioned behind the makeshift spear wall. With its size and speed, the creature covered the distance between them in seconds, driving into and through the fixed spears with snapping of both wood and bone, its great bulk overwhelming the men and their weapons with seeming impunity. As the bear stood atop two of the Trikru, mauling them viciously, several others thrust their spears toward the bear, with a few penetrating its hide around its shoulders but not seeming to do much damage. The bear lunged toward them, using a bushy paw to snap one spear and bat another away as it lumbered its way between several others, chomping its jaws onto a warrior's leg and jerking him back and forth, knocking two others to the ground using the dying man's body.

With a dark blur, Lexa surged forward past Clarke, using all her strength and momentum to drive a spear she had procured into the bear's torso behind its left shoulder, the force of the blow burying the spear more than half its length into the bear's body. She scrambled backward out of the creature's reach, but instead it bellowed angrily, rising to its feet again as it shook its head back and forth in fury.

Clarke lifted her gun, firing shot after shot into the thing's chest; after five shots without any appreciable effect, she raised the gun and shot four more times at its head, seeing at least two shots strike the creature due to small sprays of blood and tissue from their impact.

The bear fell forward, slamming its forelegs onto the ground as its turned its head to look in Clarke's direction. Lexa immediately stepped in front of Clarke, another spear coiled in her grip, but before the azkripa could take more than a few steps, a horse and rider slammed into it from the side, sending bear, horse and man all tumbling in a furry mess.

Lexa turned to see two other Trikru riders dismounting, running forward and taking positions beside her and in front of Clarke.

"We killed over half of the fleeing Azgeda, Heda, Wanheda," one of them spoke in English, a young but experienced warrior named David. "Then we heard the screams and came back."

Lexa nodded, recognizing the warriors doing their duty to protect their leaders. It was their duty, not anything specifically worthy of praise from their Heda, but if they survived this, she would remember their courage. She looked back to the azkripa, now being stabbed with spears and hacked at with swords by the remaining Trikru.

With another roar, the bear swiped out with a paw, nearly tearing one warrior's leg completely off, sending her sprawling to the ground screaming. The bear shifted, rolling onto its back as it met another warrior's swing of his sword with a lunge, the creature's powerful jaws snapping his arm with a sickening crunch before tearing the arm off completely. Blood stained the monster's dirty white fur everywhere now, making it hard to tell if it had been seriously wounded or not.

As the bear turned to attack, Clarke stepped forward and fired another volley of shots at the creature's head; the creature flinched, and as it did so Lexa and the remaining warriors charged it. The first Trikru to reach it stabbed at its neck, only to have the azkripa turn and lunge at him. The beast's jaws snapped short of his chest, but its swipe downward across his torso snapped his spear and rent his chest and pelvis horrifically; the great claws, each as long as a short sword, tore bloody furrows through skin, fat and muscle alike, eviscerating the man almost instantly.

Clarke felt bile rise in the back of her throat at the sight of the screaming man grasping at his entrails as he fell forward, his cries cut short by the azkripa grabbing his skull in its teeth and crushing it.

Then the bile in the back of Clarke's throat was joined by her heart, when Lexa stepped forward and _screamed_ at the azkripa.

As if answering a challenge, the beast turned, still on all fours, and opened its mouth to roar its reply, but just as it began to bellow once more, Lexa shoved her spear down the bear's gullet, driving the weapon so deeply that she could feel its hot, bloody breath on her hands by the time she released the spear. She immediately jumped back, out of the way of the creature jerking its head in all directions, trying to dislodge the spear and remove the searing pain in its throat.

Lexa ended her roll kneeling, drawing her sword and pushing off the ground to charge the azkripa once more, this time from its side while it was distracted with the spear painfully lodged in its maw. As the remaining Trikru began to stab the creature with spears and swords on its other side, she delivered multiple powerful slashes, one after another, to the bear's throat as it shook its head back and forth, each blow slicing deeper and deeper through the fur and fatty hide, until glistening brown fat and pink muscle were exposed. The bear tried to turn toward her, but Lexa pressed her attack, now plunging her sword deep into the exposed tissue, slicing through muscle, nerves and blood vessels until she felt the sword strike bone and deflect downward. Then she used all her strength to half-cut, half-tear the blade through the azkripa's throat, jerking the weapon free with a spray of bright red blood from the bear's throat onto the snowy ground, splattering onto her boots before she could step back.

Clarke was motionless, both from terror at Lexa charging into melee combat with such a creature and from awe at her wife's prowess in battle. As the azkripa groaned once more, this time wet and heavy, it toppled forward, its bulk settling into the red-stained snow as its life ended. In contrast to the relief Clarke felt flood her body, Lexa continued to stand vigilant over the creature for several more seconds, prepared to strike again if necessary. Only after another minute without a hint of movement from the azkripa's body did Lexa step back and lower her sword.

It was then that the bite of the cold registered once more with Clarke, taking her breath as the rush of adrenaline began to wane. Lexa bent over the body of one of the fallen Azgeda, tugging his thick coat off of him.

" _Get their coats and cloaks!"_ Lexa shouted in Trigedasleng to the remaining Trikru. Only four of them remained standing, in addition to Lexa and Clarke, but as Clarke watched, one of them fell onto his rear awkwardly, then toppled over to his side before stilling. _"They may be Azgeda, but they are better prepared for this cold than we are!"_

Seeing them remove the coats from the dead Azgeda, Clarke finally spotted one back behind her; however, before she could make her way to his body, she felt a firm grip on her shoulder.

"Put this on," Lexa said, her tone of voice indicating this was an order rather than a suggestion.

"You need one too!"

"I'll get one. Once you put _this_ one on."

Clarke held Lexa's gaze for another second before acquiescing. She slid one arm into the ridiculously large coat, turning to let Lexa slide the coat over her wife's other arm. Lexa flipped the hood into place over Clarke's head, then she ran over to the nearest group of bodies to find a coat for herself.

"We have to find shelter!" Clarke called out to Lexa, walking over to meet the brunette as she tugged a large coat over her clothes, pulling a scarf from an Azgeda body as well. "Or try to make some!"

"The tarp and wagon," Lexa said, looking back at Clarke.

Clarke nodded. "It's probably our only chance."

Hurriedly they stumbled toward the wreckage of the wagon. As they plodded along, Clarke noted sickly that she could no longer feel her hands or her feet despite her gloves and boots, but she kept trudging forward behind Lexa. After agonizing minutes, they finally reached the wreckage of the wagon. Lexa grabbed the tarp, lifting it to try and block some of the blowing wind. _"Help me lift this!"_ she called out. Immediately Clarke was beside her, but the two of them were unable to do much more than pull the tarp over themselves. Lexa turned to shout at the Trikru again, but no words came out.

Clarke turned to see what had kept the others, but the two prone bodies lying face-down in the snow answered the question for her. She struggled to her feet, despite the stinging pain making its way up her legs and down her chest. "We can pile snow on top of the tarp for insulation," she said to Lexa. "Then we can huddle together to share body heat."

Despite the bleak circumstances, Lexa's bright red face briefly allowed itself to smile. "That sounds vaguely dirty, my houmon," she said as she stood.

Clarke smiled back despite the stinging of her face, even behind a makeshift scarf, but when she tried to walk around Lexa to start piling snow on the tarp, her right leg refused to move, sending her sprawling downward. Lexa's reflexes were too dulled by the biting cold to catch Clarke, resulting in both of them in the snow, Clarke on her side and Lexa kneeling over her.

Clarke felt Lexa's strong arms grab her and lift her up to a seated position. She turned to thank Lexa, only to stop when she saw glistening trails of tears down Lexa's cheeks. The moisture was likely beginning to freeze already, but it was the sorrow and regret in her wife's green eyes that nearly stopped Clarke's heart.

"Hey," Clarke said as she tugged off her left glove.

"Clarke—"

"Shh," Clarke whispered, cutting off Lexa as she reaching into Lexa's hood with her bare hand, resting it on her mate's cold cheek. "Don't cry, Lexa," she said softly. "Yes, I wanted more time with you too, but we're _together_."

Lexa's eyes closed as she leaned into Clarke's touch. "We will always be together, Klark. Our bodies and our spirits."

Clarke felt the cold release its grip on her steadily, the biting sting of the cold giving way to a dull warmth that was a sad but heartfelt relief. "I love you, Lexa."

"And I love you, Klark. My houmon. My wife." She also began to feel the cold's grasp on her lessen, and she understood that meant their time was drawing nigh.

Lexa dropped to both knees in front of Clarke, tugging off her gloves to grasp Clarke's crimson cheeks one last time in this world. Their kiss was salty with tears from both of them, stinging both sets of lips, but neither of them complained as they spent long seconds enjoying the taste of each other's lips.

Clarke's sharp intake of breath made Lexa's eyes blink open, and the blonde's head tilting to the side to look behind Lexa set all of Heda's internal alarms off. She stumbled to her feet, nearly swearing aloud at how sluggishly her arms and legs responded, but she was able to draw her sword and stand in front of Clarke as the massive shadow of _something_ approaching them through the fiercely blowing blizzard grew before their eyes.

Then everything went white. And then everything went black.

—O—

Lexa smiled happily as she floated, warm from Clarke's body beside her, away from the bitter, biting cold that had consumed them. Nothing was hurting now. The gentle sound of Clarke's soft, steady breathing reassured Lexa that all was right, that their spirits were indeed still together, still joined.

Images danced through her dreaming mind, images of Clarke naked in their bed, of Titus's decapitated body lashed to a tree, of Nia's surprised face when a spear had pierced her heart. Of twin blonde girls she had never met reaching out to her, of great white dragons made of pure crystal, of a monster that had once been a white bear but had been turned into a bringer of death. Of a teenaged boy turned murderer killed by the girl he thought he loved, sadness and determination and courage etched with tears and dirt on a fair face as it turned away from the dead boy and turned to Lexa, revealing a spirit so powerful, so defiant, so scalding that it burned away the cobwebs of regret and guilt Lexa had allowed to take over her heart.

Images of Clarke, shivering and freezing to death in the snow, but still smiling at being with Lexa.

Images of something vast, details obscured by the swirling wall of snow and sleet, displacing the blowing particles as it came closer, closer, until it was right upon them—

Lexa sat upright so quickly that the walls of the room spun around her head dizzyingly.

 _Room?_ She thought, until a crash from several feet away drew her attention.

"Lexa?!"

Lexa turned to see Clarke push herself up into a seated position to Lexa's right, clutching sheets and covers to her chest. When Clarke swapped hands to hold her own covers with her right and lift some in front of Lexa with her left, Lexa realized she was likewise nude beneath the bedcovers. Or least half of her was still beneath the bedcovers.

Lexa gratefully took the covers from Clarke, holding them in front of her chest as she watched a young girl stumble to her feet, still partially extricating herself from the chair that had fallen over with her in it as a result of Lexa's rather sudden awakening. "Where are we?!" Lexa shouted at the girl, who looked like she was thirteen or fourteen, with long, straight brown hair, wearing an ornate dress that looked new, as if it had been sewn just days earlier. The blues and yellows embroidered on the fabric were as vivid as glowblooms and blistersap, very different than the faded colors Lexa was used to seeing on most clothes.

The girl simply stood, practically trembling in shock, her face apprehensive to a powerful degree.

"Where are we?!" Lexa shouted again, trying to control her anger. Who had seen them unclothed? Who had brought them here?

"Lexa, she's just a kid," Clarke said softly.

"A 'kid' who has been sitting her watching us while we sleep," Lexa replied sharply. "Where are our clothes? Our weapons?" she said again, not as loud as before but no kinder.

The girl simply shook her. She opened her mouth and spoke hesitantly, stutteringly, but it was no language Lexa had ever heard.

"Our _clothes_ ," Lexa said, frustration mounting. She dropped the sheets, revealing her bare torso, lean muscles and small, athletic breasts. " _Clothes_ ," she said slowly, pointing to her chest with both hands.

The girl's eyes brightened as recognition bloomed across her face. She spoke again, more gibberish to Lexa's ears, then pointed to a large dresser against a wall. Laid out atop the elegant dark wood of the furniture were several articles of clothing, folded crisply and arranged neatly atop the polished wooden surface.

The girl spoke again, walking quickly across the room to point at a carved wooden table, this one made of a wood slightly lighter than the dresser but built with a similar simple style. On this table lay their weapons, each blade sheathed and neatly positioned atop the flat surface, along with a large sack that appeared to be at least partially full.

Clarke rolled her eyes when Lexa crawled over her, moving across the bed to the table containing their weapons.

"Really, Lexa?" Clarke teased, unable to keep from smiling at Lexa's rear inches from her face as the brunette finally stepped off the bed.

The girl said something else in the strange language before smiling and nodding to Clarke. She then turned and quickly walked out of the large room, closing the door behind her. Clarke listened but didn't hear the telltale _click_ of a lock turning.

A metallic _shrring_ told Clarke that Lexa had just drawn her sword behind her. Clarke turned to see a vexed look on Lexa's face. "Are you going to attack the bed, Lexa?" Clarke asked, her voice light.

"We have no idea where we are, we have no idea how we got here, and we have no idea if we are still in danger," Lexa replied coolly, pacing around the room, her slim body's muscles moving in ways that made Clarke's mouth water and legs reflexively inch apart.

"Well, I _do_ know how hot you look doing that," Clarke replied, running a hand through her hair and grimacing a bit at how greasy it felt.

"I am not hot, Clarke," Lexa said, turning to look at Clarke despite keeping her sword just below a guard position. "It's actually comfortable in here."

Clarke looked around the room, taking in the wood paneling and stonework making up the walls of the room. There were a few paintings placed on the walls of the large room, mostly landscapes but with the occasional still life or portrait. A fire cracked and popped merrily in the large fireplace set into the wall visible beyond the foot of the large bed she and Lexa had been in, and Clarke couldn't help but smile as she threw back the blankets and slid from the bed. "I'm pretty sure whoever brought us here isn't planning on hurting us, Lexa," she said as she walked over the clothes arranged on the large dresser. "Not if they kept us from freezing to death. They probably removed our clothes and put us in bed together to help us warm up."

Lexa moved to stand between Clarke and the door the girl had exited through earlier. "We can't take that chance, Clarke," she said firmly. "Did you recognize the language she spoke?"

"No," Clarke said as she held a light yellow dress up to her chest. "This is beautiful," she said softly as she felt the softness of the fabric. "I haven't seen clothes this nice since Octavia's mom got floated." Seeing Lexa's unspoken question on her wife's face, Clarke added, "Ms. Blake was the best seamstress on the Ark. Some of the clothes she made were amazing."

Lexa's eyes shifted between Clarke's nude body, mostly covered by the yellow dress held up in front of her, and the dress itself. "It..." she started, only to stop and swallow. "It... would look nice," she managed to say. "On you, I mean."

Clarke's smile practically beamed. "Really?" she asked, taking another look at the dress. "I haven't worn a dress in _years_ , not since I was a little girl." She looked up at Lexa. "Let's just say that paints and charcoal don't mix well with fancy dresses."

Lexa's smile made Clarke's heart soar. "I can imagine," Lexa said quietly, her arms finally relaxing as she let the sword drop to her side. "My little Clarke, ruining her fancy Skai clothes."

Clarke feigned a look of disbelief. "Oh, and I suppose little Lexa never ruined an outfit by playing in the mud or climbing trees."

"No, for me it was usually getting blood on them," Lexa said flatly. "Other people's blood." Keeping a straight face was no small feat as she watched the emotions dance across Clarke's face, but Lexa managed to hide her amusement. " _Lots_ of other people's blood."

The look of uncertainly on Clarke's face finally broke Lexa's floodgates, and sputtering laughter burst forth from the brunette's lips as she grinned at her wife's confusion.

"You little shit," Clarke swore softly, stepping forward and wrapping her arms around Lexa to show that her words truly had no bite or resentment behind them. The dress still dangled in Clarke's hand as she held Lexa, their bodies pressed against each other. "I love you."

"And I love you," Lexa replied as they kissed once, twice. "But it would be nice to have some clothes on when someone returns."

"Agreed," said Clarke as she stepped back and lifted the dress over her head, letting it fall down and over her body.

"You're wearing it?" Lexa asked, surprised.

Clarke nodded as her head appeared out of the dress. "You said you wanted to see me in it," she said slyly, adding a slight smile for good measure. "How can I deny you that?" Clarke turned, presenting her back to Lexa. "Button me up?" she asked over her shoulder.

"Now is not the time to try on clothes, Clarke," Lexa said, her face as disapproving as the tone of her voice.

"Actually, it's the perfect time to try on clothes, considering you're not wearing any," replied Clarke, matching Lexa's no-nonsense tone. "At the very least, I'm not going to be able to concentrate on anything else unless you get dressed," Clarke added, tossing the black shirt Lexa had been wearing earlier to her wife; from its neat appearance and clean feel, Clarke would guess it had been washed and dried while they were unconscious.

As she became aware of another pressing issue, Clarke turned to look around the room. "No way we'll be lucky enough to have a bathroom in here..." she said, walking away from the bedroom's main door toward a smaller door on another wall. She carefully pushed the door open, only to reveal an elegant bathroom featuring a toilet, sink and large bathtub, lit by a thin frosted glass window.

"Lexa!" Clarke called out, unable to keep from smiling. "There's a bathroom in here!" Hearing her lover move in the bedroom, Clarke quickly closed the door. "Uh uh! I was here first!" she said playfully through the door, laughing at the soft growl she heard through the wooden door. Out of respect for her mate, Clarke wasted no time emptying her bladder and quickly washed her hands afterward, pleasantly surprised at the running water in the sink.

When she opened the door, she saw Lexa's back, as the brunette had turned to face the bedroom's main door again, her shirt and pants now on and sword still drawn but held at more of a ready position instead of a guard position. "Okay babe, your turn," Clarke said. "I'll watch the door." She moved to the table containing their weapons, smiling when she spotted the holstered pistol, still attached to her belt, which had been coiled loosely and placed along with the other sheathed and holstered weapons. She removed the pistol, ejecting the magazine and checking how many rounds she had left in the clip. Seeing that she only had a few bullets left in the clip, Clarke frowned and began looking through the gear laid out on the large table.

Unlike the clothes on the dresser across the room, which looked to have been cleaned, neatly folded and sorted, the items and gear on this table appeared to have been left alone as much as possible. They were arranged carefully on the large wooden table, but there were still visible blood stains on some of the gear. Seeing a large bag and two smaller bags on one corner of the table, Clarke moved to where she could look inside the bags while still keeping the door visible in her line of sight. The larger bag held the gear she had placed in her saddlebags, along with what must have been items gathered from their fallen Trikru warriors. The first smaller bag she opened held the empty brass casings of the bullets she had fired earlier, neatly gathered together, Before she could look into the second smaller bag, the sound of the toilet flushing drew her eyes back up from the table.

Lexa exited the bathroom shortly after the toilet flushed, her sword still in her hand as she looked over at Clarke's new position.

"Did you actually put that down to use the bathroom?" Clarke asked, not entirely sure if Lexa had done so or not.

A hint of a smile crossed Lexa's lips. "Wouldn't you like to know," she replied calmly.

A knock at the door seized their attention instantly. Lexa practically ran around the bed to take position between the door and Clarke.

"Lexa, if they wanted to hurt us, wouldn't they have just—"

A raised left hand from her houmon cut Clarke off as Lexa leaned in close to the door, trying to understand the two voices speaking on the other side of the door. The voices were faint through the thick door, but Lexa's hearing was quite keen.

The first voice was still gibberish, seemingly the same language the girl who had been in the room with them had been speaking. But the second voice was surprisingly understandable.

" _It's just a shield. We left all their weapons in the room with them at Elin's and Erin's insistence, in an attempt to show them that we meant them no harm. The girls say they can be trusted, but there's no point in going in there without some form of protection."_

More of the first voice, still unintelligible.

" _Just because they're dangerous doesn't mean they're not friendly. We're dangerous too. And these people were attacked in our country, by people who are just as unfamiliar to us as they are."_

Another reply, this time shorter, from the first voice.

" _Well, we need answers. Elin and Erin insist these two are here to help us. Freya herself only knows how the girls can tell that, but we're going to give these two the chance to explain who they are and how they got here."_

When another knock resounded across the door, Lexa stepped back and shifted her sword into a guard position. "We are awake," she said loudly.

The wooden door opened slowly, revealing a woman who appeared to be around Lexa's and Clarke's age slowly entering the room. She had bright coppery hair, pulled back into twin braids that had been draped in front of her shoulders. She wore a dark green dress that seemed to flow and shimmer in the sunlight that filled the large room, with colorful silver and gold designs tracing the ends of her sleeves and the skirt's hem. A slim leather belt with colorful embroidery circled her waist, with a sheathed sword hanging on her right side. Most striking was the shield she carried on her left arm; it appeared to somehow be made entirely of ice based on its crystalline appearance and hint of opacity, as well as the sensation of cold Lexa could feel radiating off of it even ten feet away.

As the redhead spotted Clarke first, she smiled, and the expression seemed to swell the room even larger than it was. Clarke couldn't help but smile back despite the awkwardness of the situation. The radiance of the young woman's smile didn't fade in the least as she turned to her left and took in Lexa's stance, poised for combat at a moment's notice, although she did stop moving forward.

Lexa regarded the woman carefully. Her unusual shield remained at her side, ready to be interposed between the woman and Lexa's blade in an instant should that prove necessary, and while her smile appeared genuine, there was no easy way to gauge her intentions. The redhead did have a sword hanging at her side, but she made no move to draw it; in fact, the redhead's free right hand was instead twirling her right braid.

"I'm so glad the two of you are awake!" the redhead said gleefully. "I'm not exactly sure why I'm talking to you, because Safina doesn't understand your language and says you don't understand ours, but I might as well talk to you, right?" She paused, looking back over to Clarke but keeping Lexa in her peripheral vision. "Hopefully Elsa can come up with some way for us to understand each other, because _something's_ going on up north, and we'd really like to know just who you two are and who all those dead people are and just what the heck that crazy-looking bear thing was!"

"We understand you," Clarke blurted out, only to get a glare from Lexa.

"You can understand me?" the redhead practically shouted, her smile somehow growing in intensity.

"Yes," Lexa replied sharply, her sword still unsheathed and ready at her side.

"But I didn't think you spoke our language!" the redhead replied, arms spreading outward in an unconscious reflection of her surprise.

Lexa noted the opening the movement of the woman's shield offered her. If she moved quickly, she could possibly cover the distance between them before the woman could recover from her mistake. But before Lexa's muscles propelled her into motion, the brunette remembered when she herself had tested two members of Skaikru in a similar situation to judge their true intentions.

Lexa loosened her grip on her sword and stood fully, leaving her ready stance and willing her taut muscles to relax. She and Clarke were not here to fight these people, who likely _had_ already saved their lives by bringing them in from the lethal cold. They were here to deal with the Azgeda who had stolen Nia's body and this "sorcerer" who was helping them.

"My name is Lexa," she spoke to the redhead. "And this is Clarke," she said, gesturing toward the blonde with her empty left hand. "She is my houmon, my mate." It took all of Lexa's self-control to not smile at Clarke's self-conscious blush at that statement, all too evident on the blonde's cheeks. "And you I can understand, as you are speaking the same language Clarke and I do."

Now the redhead looked confused. "But... I'm not speaking your language. I'm speaking the same language that Safina, the handmaiden in here earlier, does."

Lexa and Clarke now looked at each other with similar confusion. "I can understand you perfectly well too," Clarke added. "Are you sure you're not speaking our language?"

The redhead turned to the woman standing behind her, hair a bright golden blonde slightly lighter than Clarke's shade; she looked slightly older, roughly in her late twenties or early thirties. "Arista, do you understand them?" asked the redhead.

When the woman Arista spoke, it was the same consonant and vowel mishmash that the first girl had spoken. Lexa shook her head.

"Again, whatever language she is speaking, we cannot understand," Lexa said, looking at Clarke to see her nodding in agreement.

The redhead's smile had been replaced with a look of consternation. "But she and I are speaking the same language!" she said.

"Can... Arista understand us?" asked Clarke, her mind beginning to grasp the edges of the situation.

The redhead shook her head. "No," she replied. "She says it sounds similar to some languages she's heard in other countries, but she can't understand it."

"And we can't understand her, or the girl from earlier," Clarke said, nodding to herself slightly. "So clearly we _are_ speaking different languages." She looked back at the redhead again. "But Lexa and I can understand you, and you can understand us."

"So it seems," Lexa added softly.

"Yeah, it does," replied the redhead.

"So it has to be something about you," Clarke concluded.

The redhead considered that deduction for a few moments before her countenance brightened once more. "Well, whatever reason it is, I'm glad we don't have to draw pictures or something equally silly to communicate," she said happily. She pressed her right hand to her chest in a gesture of introduction. "I'm Anna, by the way. Welcome to Arendelle!"

—O—

 **Author's Afterword:** I assure you that I have not forgotten Anna's age in this story. With Elin and Erin both being thirteen, Anna is thirty-three. But she still _looks_ much younger, a side effect of the magic that embraces her and Elsa both. This is why she appears to be in her late teens/early twenties at this point, even though she's actually more than a decade older than Lexa and Clarke.

For those of you who have read my other Elsanna story "Feel, Don't Conceal," you'll recognize Arista as well as Anna's shield and sword. If you haven't, no worries, you'll learn about them soon enough.

I love the thought of the intense, take-no-prisoners Monroe being a secret romantic at heart (and probably embarrassed about that secret, as well) when it comes to someone she loves. I'm also entirely sure that Harper has a secret dark side that's explosive, passionate and unbridled when it comes to sex; she just needed to find the right person to let that part of her come out to play (and be able to hang on for the ride).

As for Monroe's breakdown this chapter, I don't think it's being too hard on her. In my opinion, NOT showing the aftermath of what she's done in service to leaders of questionable merit would be a much bigger affront to her character. She's loyal and brave, but that doesn't justify going along with mass murder. She's finally starting to see that her blind devotion to Bellamy isn't always a good thing, and Harper is definitely helping her work through this painful realization.

And Lexa is a bad-ass.

Thanks for reading! Will try to have the next chapter up in a couple of weeks or so.


	5. Ch 5: It Was the Best of Worlds

**Author's Note:** Finally, another chapter! This one's a longer one, and it could have gone on and on. Sorry for the delay in getting it finished and posted, but I needed a bit of a break from writing for a short time. It happens.

Cover Art for the story is from the LexaRecovery tumblr. Stay strong together.

 _I do not own the television show "The 100" or make any claims upon it or its characters. Similarly, I do not own Frozen, its characters or any Disney characters or property. All these characters are used under the concept of Fair Use, and I make no profit or income from using any of them._

 **Our Fight Is Not Over**

by Jo K.

Chapter 5: It Was the Best of Worlds

 _Take me in_

 _No questions asked_

 _Strip away the ugliness that surrounds me_

 _Are you an angel_

 _Am I already that gone_

 _I only hope that I won't disappoint you_

 _When I'm down here on my knees_

-Sarah MacLachlan, "Sweet Surrender"

—O—

Despite her own eyes telling her the reality of her situation as she walked down the long, elegantly carpeted hallway, Clarke's mind still reeled at accepting the fact that she was inside a true castle, not some bombed-out ruin, complete with an authentic royal family. Lexa's tower was fantastic and had been by far the most elegant, regal structure she had ever seen with her own eyes, but _this_... this had an aura, a gravitas that practically sang to her artistic sensibilities.

Nia called herself a queen, but Clarke was sure that whatever passed for her palace would look like a shitty little pile of rocks compared to this.

Her gaze kept drifting upward to look at the landscapes, watercolors and other paintings lining the walls of the hallway as she walked beside Lexa, with their host, the effervescent Anna, on Lexa's other side. Clarke's wife had quietly positioned herself between Clarke and the redhead when she started walking; if her mother or anyone from the Ark had acted similarly, Clarke would have been offended at their presumption that Clarke was incapable of defending herself. Lexa, however, knew quite well that Clarke was capable of protecting herself, especially with her pistol once again holstered at her side, the otherwise bare gunbelt cinched around the blonde's waist, adding even more definition to the curves of her hips and rear in the thin but elegant yellow gown she was wearing. Lexa wanted to protect Clarke because she loved her, not because she thought Clarke was incapable of doing it herself. Lexa had learned better long ago.

"Elsa and I had all the stuffy old portraits taken out of this hallway years ago," Anna said cheerily as they walked, a belt similar to Clarke's but thinner and fashioned from elegantly tooled and colored leather encircling the young woman's waist, her sheathed sword hanging at her left side. "They were sooo boring! We thought the castle needed more _color_ , more _life_ , in it!"

"It's beautiful," Clarke said honestly. Her eyes couldn't move fast enough to take in all the wonders around her, from the elegance of the framed paintings lining the wood-paneled walls, to the softness of the rich burgundy carpet beneath her bare feet, to the color and styling of the pristine clothes and uniforms worn by the guards and servants they had glimpsed so far. The only place she had ever seen anything approaching this level of elegance had been inside Mount Weather, where the dusty stacks of hoarded artifacts had given off more of an air of desperation than of decoration, and that place's labyrinthine confines had evoked emotions much darker than what Clarke had felt from this "Arendelle" so far.

People seemed... _happy_ here.

It was a simple enough concept, but one that had been consistently absent from everyone Clarke had ever met on the ground. Life on the ground was about bare survival, and the cold, brutal efficiency needed to achieve that goal tended to drive the joy out of most activities.

But this place felt different. Everyone that she had seen so far was friendly, smiling and polite despite the language barrier for her and Lexa, and all seemed to adore their queen. Servants were going about their work with bright smiles, and none of those expressions seemed the least bit forced as they met and passed by more and more of them as they walked.

Was there truly a place where people could let themselves be happy for more than a moment or two? Clarke's optimistic spirit had been dimmed by the reality of life on the ground, but there was still a flame of it that refused to go out, still burning low but resolute, hesitant to completely give up hope for a happier life at some point in the future.

Or was the truth altogether more horrible, as she had learned to expect? Did this cheer and happiness hide an underlying savagery kept well-hidden, as Mount Weather had done? Or could things be even worse than that?

Had she and Lexa really frozen to death, and this was just an elaborate hallucination or trick of her mind to spare her the agony of her last dying moments?

"We're so happy that you two are joining us for lunch!" Anna said cheerfully, her smile possibly even more bright and infectious than it had been when Clarke and Lexa had first met the redhead, now about fifteen or twenty minutes ago by Clarke's estimation. "Usually it's just Elsa and me for lunch, because Hilde and Arista are usually busy with their own jobs, and with what's been happening up north over the last few days the two of them have been even busier than usual. We're expecting some company soon to help with all that business, but maybe you two can help us figure out what's going on!"

Forcing more morbid thoughts aside but not completely out of her mind, Clarke looked over to meet Lexa's green eyes, getting a sense of both her wife's burning curiosity as well as quiet mirth at their host's rather exuberant nature in that shared glance between them. Clarke couldn't prevent the smile that stretched across her face at seeing that too familiar expression in Lexa's expressive eyes. "We're happy to tell you what we know about the people we're hunting," Clarke said, turning to look back at Anna while Lexa's eyes shifted forward again, analyzing the guards waiting outside the doorway down the hall. "Maybe they're connected to the issues you're having in your northern territory. And thank you for feeding us, too."

"Oh, it's the least we can do for guests!" Anna said agreeably. "Especially after you nearly froze to death out there in the mountains."

Anna looked forward, meeting the measured gaze of the blonde Arista, who had just stepped outside the smaller dining room that the royal family used for lunch. Usually all five of the Arendelle royals had lunch together, but after a brief discussion between Anna and Arista earlier that morning, it was decided that Kari, the youngest of the royal children, would be eating lunch in her own chambers that day as a security precaution. Erin and Elin were still asleep themselves, after an exhausting night. After they had abruptly slipped out of their room and flown off into the night with Sleet and Snow, their two dragons made from magical ice, the two teenagers had finally returned with the nearly-dead Clarke and Lexa and then collapsed into the large joint bed that the two twins had shared since childhood. They remained asleep nearly fourteen hours later, much to the consternation of the attentive servants waiting to feed them once they awoke.

—O—

Despite the pleasantness of the lunch and the sumptuous food they were enjoying—a roasted bird of some sort, smoked fish, cheeses, breads, potatoes, squash—it had not escaped Lexa's sight that Anna's sword rested in the chair next to her. The redheaded queen had removed the swordbelt and placed it, along with the fascinating shield she had carried earlier, in the nearest empty seat on her left side, opposite where Lexa and Clarke sat at Anna's right hand.

It could have been another test, Lexa surmised as she politely chewed her food, the hot, juicy meat altogether delicious. Or it could have been a tactical error, placing her weapon in such a position as to require their host to turn her back on her and Clarke to retrieve the sword or shield should either become necessary. Then again, Clarke had her pistol, although judging by the lack of electricity and the medieval look of the castle hosting them, it was quite possible none of the Arendellans even knew what a pistol was, much less how lethal it could be.

A gentle but firm grip on her right wrist broke Lexa's tactical analysis. She turned her head to meet Clarke's blue eyes, understanding meeting Lexa's questioning gaze, yes, but also tempered with what Lexa read as a silent chastisement.

A glance at Clarke's lips caught the otherwise silent mouthing of a single word: _Behave_. After a few moments of consideration, Lexa nodded, then weakly smiled. Clarke already knew her all too well... and it felt surprisingly comforting.

Clarke cleared her throat softly, but it was enough to draw attention from Anna in the otherwise quiet dining room. "Thank you again, Queen Anna," she said politely. "Not only for saving our lives, but for clothing and feeding us as well."

Anna nodded behind her upturned glass, taking a rather deep (and unladylike) drink. "Anna is fine, really," she said as she placed her cup back on the table. "So, where are you from?" she asked curiously. "I mean, you don't speak our language, and you were _really_ far north, according to what Elin and Erin told me last night, much farther north than any visitors would normally be."

Clarke and Lexa looked at each other, wordlessly debating the best way to explain their unusual circumstances of arrival until the opening of a door at the far end of the dining room commanded their attention instead.

"Elsa!" Anna gleefully shouted, standing quickly enough to send her chair scooting backwards across the hard floor. Grinning madly, she sprinted forward, covering the short distance between her and the elegant platinum blonde in a shimmering aquamarine gown who had just entered the dining room in seconds.

Clarke nearly blushed as she watched the two of them kiss intensely, her and Lexa apparently forgotten in the display of passion between the redheaded queen and the fair blonde.

"I was told that our guests had woken up," said Elsa to Anna, smiling as they continued to hold each close after they gently ended the kiss. As Anna rested her head on Elsa's collarbone, Elsa turned her head just enough to regard their visitors, offering a confident smile to the blonde and brunette, who remained seated at the table. "Can you understand me?"

"We can," said Lexa as she stood. "I am Lexa, leader of the Thirteen Clans. And this is my mate, Clarke, leader of the Sky People."

"I'm glad we can understand each other, although I'm at a loss to explain why that is," replied Elsa. "I'm Elsa, Anna's wife and the other Queen of Arendelle," replied the blonde Arendellan. "And thought I hesitate to admit it, I'm afraid I've never heard of either the Thirteen Clans or the Sky People."

"No, I'm sure you haven't," Clarke said, her voice notably subdued. "We come from what's probably very far away," she continued as Elsa walked around the table, finally stopping beside Anna, who pushed the chair with her sword and shield away and tugged another chair into the space thus vacated.

As Elsa and Anna took their seats, Clarke and Lexa did the same. Elsa simply sat patiently, her attention focused on the two visitors as no one resumed eating just yet.

Clarke felt her face heat as she considered her options. _How to put the absurd, the impossible into words?_ "I'll tell you what we know of how we got here," Clarke finally said, trying to push aside the self-consciousness. "But I'm afraid it's going to sound ridiculous."

"Some of Anna's best adventures started out that way," Elsa replied with a soft smirk she directed at the redhead beside her.

"Hey!" Anna exclaimed lightly. "I'll eat your biscuits for that!" She quickly grabbed the basket of freshly baked goods, pulling it to her narrowly before Elsa could grab it herself, leaving the blonde queen's slim fingers grasping at air. "Too slow," Anna offered Elsa with a smirk.

"They were talking, Anna," Elsa said quietly and gently, shifting her blue eyes from Anna's blue-green back toward to the other two women seated at the table with them. "Please continue, now that Anna has taken the bread hostage."

The laugh had bubbled out of Clarke's throat even before she realized it, causing Lexa to turn and look at her with a bemused grin of her own. "To be very honest, we're not entirely sure of where we are," Clarke finally said. "We were pursuing a dangerous group of warriors when we passed through—"

She sighed. There really was no way around it other than just saying it, she finally decided. "Through a... portal, I guess. It was like a pool of shimmering light, standing upright and not touching the ground at all. We saw the people we were pursuing go into the portal, then they were just... gone. When we went into the portal ourselves in pursuit of them, we went from calm weather and the low plains we had been in all morning to steep mountains and that blizzard, just in an instant."

Looking up to take in two very different expressions meeting her gaze, measured calmness from Elsa and wide-eyed curiosity from Anna, Clarke sighed. "Look, I know it sounds ridiculous, but..." she said, trailing off, hardly believing what she was about to say.

"We have no good explanation for how the portal worked," Lexa said, seizing their hosts' attention upon herself before Clarke became any more flustered. "But those we were pursuing stated it was... magic."

"Oh!" Anna said with a quick smile, before reaching to produce a golden biscuit from the basket she was still shielding from Elsa. "Well, that makes sense," she added calmly as she began buttering the biscuit.

Lexa and Clarke briefly turned to look at each other. "Excuse me," Clarke said, looking back at Anna and Elsa, who was taking half of the biscuit Anna had torn apart and offered to her. "Did you say that _makes sense?"_

"Uh huh," Anna mumbled around a mouthful of warm, flaky goodness. She swallowed, then said, "I mean, what else did you think it _could_ be?"

Lexa leaned closer to Clarke. "I think we're missing something here," she whispered, but Clarke was already leaning forward.

"Um, _science?!"_ Clarke stated in reply to Anna's question, ignoring Lexa's attempt to mitigate her irritation and beginning to lose patience with being teased. "Some secret technology, maybe from before the nuclear strikes?" She narrowed her eyes at the two women, continuing to sit and eat calmly as she raised her voice further. "Or do you honestly expect us to believe that 'magic' _really_ brought us here?!" she finished, sarcasm dripping from her words.

Twin looks of recognition bloomed across both Elsa's fair face and Anna's more visibly freckled one.

"Ooohhhh!" Anna said, leaning back into her chair as understanding began to reveal itself in her visage.

Elsa nodded slowly as a hint of a smile began to bloom across her lips as well. "Yes, I think I see the problem here too, my heart," she said, patting Anna's left hand with her right. She watched their guests carefully as she spoke her next words. "You come from a place without magic. Correct?"

"Yeah," Clarke replied, with more than a touch of snark in her voice, despite Lexa's increasingly firm grip on her thigh. "What other place is there?"

Elsa smiled, while Anna's expression turned downright jubilant. "What place indeed," spoke Elsa softly, as she raised her right hand until it hovered a foot above the table's linen-covered surface. Glittering white sparks of frost appeared between Elsa's hand and the table, increasing in volume and activity as they began to swirl in a tight pattern beneath the blonde's slim hand.

—O—

Clarke had long ago given up on ever being happily surprised again. Surprises, children are told, are good things, unexpected occurrences that make one laugh and smile with heartfelt glee. A birthday cake, complete with a real candle, despite the Ark's restrictions. A gift of a new sketch pad that had somehow been hidden so well that not even a young Clarke had found it despite searching. Being chosen to train as a doctor despite her and her mother's increasingly bitter personal conflicts. Adulthood, on the other hand, teaches a more somber truth.

Surprises are shit.

Surprises are watching a friend of yours fall backward into a river, a spear jutting out of his chest, fear twisting his face as his blood pours out. Surprises are finding the body of another friend lifeless on the ground, the bloodstain on his jacket still warm and sticky from the gash in his throat. Surprises are watching a little girl throw herself off a cliff out of shame and regret and despair, listening to her terrified scream grow fainter and fainter until the nauseating thud of impact brutally cuts it short. Surprises are seeing an old man feebly collapse, dead from a shot that you fired, hand too numb to even register that you had pulled the trigger. Surprises are watching hundreds of people die a painful death, enemies and allies alike, their agonized thrashing and silent screams forever burned into your mind's eye.

Surprises are watching, through your tears, your father being ripped from his feet, mercilessly cast into the lethal vacuum of space. Surprises are watching your mother end your childhood in one messy, gut-wrenching moment. Surprises are suffering, and sorrow, and loss.

So, ironically enough, it's nothing other than surprise that makes Clarke's breath catch in her lungs, that makes her lean forward in clear wonder as she watches ice crystals flow and shape themselves into the form of a fluffy white rabbit, larger than both of her hands put together and so intricately detailed that it looked disturbingly real other than its unnatural stillness.

Then the rabbit's ears twitched and its face moved to look at Clarke.

With a muffled cry, the blonde jerked back from the table, startling Lexa as well. The deceptively strong brunette caught Clarke before she could topple her chair backwards in her flight, saving the chair from falling over as well.

"It's alive, Lexa," Clarke gasped, watching the snow-white creature hop toward them calmly, its motions, direction and pace varying randomly, as a living, thinking creature would and as a mechanical creation most definitely would _not_. A few snowflakes flew away from its "fur" with each hop, a surprisingly amusing sight as Clarke's wide eyes drank in the details.

Lexa remained silent, but she moved her left hand closer to the small creature, taking its attention away from her mate. As she held her hand over the snowy rabbit, its head tilted to regard the new object, its ears flicking and nose twitching with clear curiosity. As Lexa lowered her hand, the rabbit briefly stood on its hind legs, stretching upward to sniff her skin, its touch a gentle brush against the palm of her hand followed by a brisk chill at the point of contact.

As the creature relaxed and lowered itself onto all fours again, Lexa gently reached down and stroked the small rabbit's fur. It felt exactly like a rabbit should, its snowy pelt soft and velvety although notably cold to the touch, so that Lexa had to withdraw her hand after a few seconds due to the hints of numbness and a twinge of discomfort.

Clarke watched with amazement as Lexa flexed her fingers, then petted and stroked the miniature rabbit for a few more seconds, the peculiar creature shifting and preening into her mate's touch. "How is this possible?" she asked, her voice just above a whisper as she looked up, across the plates and dishes to the two young women watching her and Lexa with amused but friendly smiles on their faces.

"Magic," Elsa replied, her voice unbelievably calm as she flicked her left hand outward, causing a spray of frost and ice crystals to shimmer and fall through the air, vanishing only moments before they hit the table.

"It's real?" Clarke asked, her entire worldview suddenly spinning around her uncontrollably as she felt a surge of nausea wash over her, turning her face pallid.

"Breath, Clarke," whispered Lexa as she took Clarke's hands into her own, the chill lingering on Lexa's left hand from touching the icy rabbit a bracing sensation to Clarke as Lexa gently rubbed her wife's fingers.

 _This is my foundation,_ Clarke thought, slowly, laboriously steadying herself by staring into brilliant green eyes that looked at her with endless love. _Lexa is my center. I am with the woman I love._

"It was hard for much of Arendelle to accept as well," Anna said gently. "Until, you know, they saw it for themselves. Which is a story all in itself."

Lexa focused on Clarke's eyes, the thin rim of blue nearly swallowed by the vastly dilated blackness of her widened pupils. "Calm, my _houmon_ ," she said gently, rubbing Clarke's sweaty hands. "We are in no danger here. These people mean us no harm."

Clarke nodded, her complexion still distressingly ashen. "It's just... It's a lot to take in," she managed to whisper out, her eyes drifting back down to the table, where the white rabbit wiggled its haunches before settling into a seated position, infuriatingly appearing as if it were entirely normal for a creature made of nothing but snow and magic to _exist_ , let alone hop around a formal dining table in a castle out of history books as if it did this every damned day.

Lexa nodded, allowing a knowing (and loving) smile to creep across her lips. "Much as learning that people lived in the sky above us, I imagine," she said, the hint of tease in her tone of voice unmistakable to her partner.

"You don't have to get cute," Clarke said flatly, eying Lexa with a sidewise glance.

Anna turned toward Elsa, not bothering to fully finish chewing the piece of salmon in her mouth before asking, _"Do_ people live in the sky above us?" with a rapt expression on her face.

"Clarke did," Lexa answered simply, drawing the attention of both Arendellans with her words. "Several thousand of her people, in fact, until the Ark which sheltered them began to fail."

Tearing her eyes away from the unnatural—but entirely adorable—ice bunny resting peacefully before her, Clarke looked over at their hosts. "I can't believe I'm asking this, but—"

She stopped and considered for a few moments. "Well, actually, I guess I can believe it. After all, it's no more crazy or absurd than what we've already seen in the last twenty-four hours."

"It can be difficult," said Elsa, her face friendly and warm as she spoke. "To have your entire world turned upside down in a single moment." She reached over and took Anna's left hand with her right; Anna's hand had already begun moving toward Elsa's before Elsa reached for it. "Anna and I are quite familiar with how that can feel." She held Clarke's gaze for a moment being gently asking, "What was it you wished to ask, Clarke?"

Clarke only hesitated a second. "This world, your world... Did it suffer a terrible disaster just over a hundred years ago? A nuclear war? A rain of fire that scorched most life from the planet and nearly exterminated humanity?"

Now the look that was shared when Anna and Elsa turned to regard each other was longer and more intense, more probing as they silently considered the blonde's words. After heavy seconds, they turned back to Clarke and Lexa, their eyes now hesitantly curious. "No," Elsa said calmly. "We suffered no such disaster, nor are we aware of anything of the sort. We have had wars at times over the centuries, but nothing so terrible as you describe."

Clarke nodded, her suspicions confirmed at the blonde monarch's words. "We really have traveled to a different world," she said quietly, turning to look at Lexa. "Or maybe a different time. Or maybe both."

Silence held over the brunch for several uncomfortable seconds, until Anna finished swallowing her latest mouthful of food.

"What's a nuclear war?"

—O—

The clash of metal striking metal and the crisp clack of wood impacting wood were common sounds in the section of Arendelle Castle set aside for the castle guards. A large enclosed sparring area was frequently used by the guards as part of their training, both to teach skills to newer guards as well as to hone and sharpen the abilities of the more experienced guards as well. As such, outside of welcoming a new guard to the ranks by watching him get smacked around in a good-natured way, sparring matches in the castle were generally about as exciting to the castle guards and staff as watching snow fall.

So the presence of over a hundred observers, guards and castle staff alike, watching the two women on the lightly-padded mat battle each other with wooden practice spears was more than a bit out of the ordinary for Arendelle Castle.

Both Anna and Lexa were glistening with sweat that had soaked through their light clothes over the last half-hour, but neither seemed to be slowing down as thrusts and strikes were traded, dodged and returned at frightening speed.

Elsa had summoned a small flurry to cool herself nearly twenty minutes ago after the sight of Anna, lightly clothed, starting to shine with sweat and grinning with excitement had finally overcome Elsa's sense of modesty. It had only taken another five minutes for her to extend the cooling breeze and light dusting of snow to include the flushed Clarke as well; the two blondes were seated next to each other in chairs that had been hastily procured from some unknown source, Elsa fanning herself unconsciously while Clarke leaned forward, elbow perched on her thigh as she rested her chin on her fisted hand, unable to tear her eyes away from Lexa's stunning display of acrobatics and power as she fought the surprisingly capable redheaded queen. Neither combatant was giving an inch to the other, and both participants seemed to enjoy the exercise much more than would be expected.

"God, this is hot," Clarke mumbled, her mouth dry despite her forehead and neck being wet with sweat.

"Agreed," replied Elsa in a ragged voice quite similar to Clarke's, her eyes just as locked onto the nearly evenly-matched combat.

"Should we be so turned on watching them fight like this?" Clarke asked, her head never turning from the action.

Elsa fanned herself a bit harder as Anna blocked a high strike from Lexa, spun away from a follow-up sweep toward her feet, then nearly landed a counter-attack of her own to Lexa's right arm, blocked at the last possible second. "Why, do you plan to stop watching?" she managed to ask, a bit breathlessly.

Clarke grinned hopelessly. They had only known each other a little over two hours, but Clarke had already decided she liked the regal, coy but surprisingly playful Winter Queen, who seemed to understand what loving a fighter truly entailed. "Not a chance," she answered honestly.

Lexa's skill was definitely better than Anna's, Elsa noted, especially after Anna made a point of asking the cold to stop trying to help her early on, when Lexa had slipped on an icy spot that had mysteriously appeared beneath one of her feet, allowing Anna to score a solid blow to her abdomen.

Elsa could tell that Lexa still had fury and power smoldering beneath the surface of her controlled fighting technique that she hadn't tapped yet; after fifteen years of watching Anna train, surreptitiously at first but more openly after the first few years, Elsa had learned a significant amount about melee combat, although she had only lightly tried to embrace fencing herself, and that sparingly.

But Anna was and had been a skilled fighter for some time, having trained now for nearly half her life, first with the castle guards and then with different teachers that had come to Arendelle as paid instructors, sometimes for the guards, sometimes for Anna or Elsa specifically. Her skills with the bow, the sword, the spear and the knife were on par with the best of the castle guard, and Anna was always up for a good challenge.

Lexa was that and more. The first blows Anna had landed on her had been mostly due to Lexa's admittedly arrogant dismissal of Anna's fighting skills based on the knowledge that A) despite being a queen, Anna struck Lexa as more of a princess, an insult she had heard Bellamy Blake and others use referencing a recurring hapless character in old books and stories, forever being captured and locked away for some dashing prince (or rarely princess) to come and rescue since they tended to be incapable of rescuing themselves, and B) because Anna looked to be as young as Clarke and had a cheery disposition altogether the opposite of what Lexa would expect from a serious warrior.

Lexa's right shin and left shoulder were both still stinging from the sharp but controlled blows the redhead had landed before Lexa internally admitted her mistake and started treating her opponent like she would a fellow Trikru warrior. And since then, she had found herself having to work harder and fight more fiercely to keep the skilled redhead from scoring another solid blow.

They had agreed to battle to the best of seven points, with training spears and light padding, and currently the score had been deadlocked at 3-3 for nearly ten minutes straight. Lexa found Anna's flurrying combination of techniques and different styles to be impressively similar to her own fighting technique, combining proven strikes and maneuvers with an unpredictability that often proved to be the defining edge in true fights. The battle between the two had progressed beyond a friendly sparring match into a true competition, but neither woman had crossed any lines of ruthlessness or viciousness.

In truth, Anna appeared to be well more than a worthy match for any of Lexa's warriors. There were a few who could possibly defeat the Arendellan queen in single combat, and luck could always make a fool of anyone on any given day, but none of them would find the young queen to be an easy opponent.

Many of Arendelle's castle guards already had strongly positive attitudes regarding their Summer Queen's fighting skill after years of training her, but the sustained display of prowess between her and her mysterious new friend—whose language none of them could understand, although their queens didn't seem to have that problem—had set several tongues wagging with not-so-quiet admiration. The dark-haired woman with burning green eyes fought like a demon, yet possessed patience and control to go along with skill and strength, and all of the soldiers watching the bout were appreciative of the fact that the woman and her blonde companion seemed to be friends of their queens and not enemies.

Finally Lexa managed to take advantage of a misstep on Anna's part, stepping forward and pinning the redhead's staff to the ground with her own before launching her body forward and tackling Anna to the mat, foregoing her staff to grapple with Anna until Lexa's superior strength had positioned Anna on the ground beneath her, Lexa's left forearm across Anna's throat with her right hand in position to strike at her now-undefended head, maintaining firm pressure across Anna's trachea but without actually choking the redhead. Anna struggled for a few seconds, clawing at Lexa's wiry arm without success before she yielded.

And then the redhead laughed. Long and breathlessly.

Lexa was so surprised by the reaction that her first instinct was to actually strike, to finish the fight before she allowed herself to be distracted by what might be a ploy or a trick. Thankfully, she caught herself before her right arm did more than twitch in preparation for a strike. When she realized the laughter wasn't a trick, she found herself grinning with apparently infectious mirth, finally allowing herself to laugh as well.

—O—

"We've sent two handmaidens to your rooms to help with bathing," Elsa said as she, Anna, Clarke and Lexa walked down the carpeted hallway on the third floor. "Then Anna and I would like to hear more about these 'Ice Clan' people you were pursuing. It's quite possible they could be connected to the unusual deaths that have occurred recently in the north."

"Hopefully our friend will be able to clarify some of the... details of the deaths," Anna added. "Right now, it feels like we're searching for a snowball in an avalanche."

A high-pitched squeal from down the hallway ahead of them instantly made all four of them freeze. The squeal was still in full-force when the figure of a child flew out of a doorway, long coppery hair trailing through the air behind her head as she arced through the air, limbs askew, finally falling with a muffled thump into a pile of what appeared to be cushions piled on the floor and leaning against the wall on the other side of the hallway.

Elsa covered her face with the palm of her hand, shaking her head quietly while trying not to laugh. The girl had dug her way out of the piles of cushions and pillows and was running back across the wide hall when Anna yelled, _"KARI ARENDELLE!"_

The young girl stopped herself so quickly that her feet hopped once across the soft carpet. She turned to face her mothers, her freckled-dusted face blushing clearly even across the distance between them, then she grinned and waved. "Hi Moms!" she said loudly.

"What are you doing?!" cried Anna, already striding down the hallway, arms swinging stiffly as she went.

"I made a rope swing!" the eight-year-old said gleefully, clenching her fists as she shook with delight.

Now it was Anna's turn to stop abruptly, still a few strides away from their youngest daughter. "A rope swing?" she asked, her curiosity beginning to stir inside her mind.

"Yeah!" Kari said, before she turned and ran back into the room beside her. A second later, Anna was running down the hallway as well.

" _No,_ Anna!" Elsa shouted, kicking her icy flats off and chasing after her wife and youngest daughter. "Anna, you're bigger than Kari!"

Clarke and Lexa continued to stare down the hall as Elsa disappeared into the room as well, then they slowly turned to look at each other.

"Why do I have the oddest feeling you were like that growing up?" Clarke asked calmly.

Lexa held Clarke's gaze for a few seconds, her face completely neutral. "Add a few knives," she finally said.

Clarke grinned. "You don't even try to deny it."

—O—

Later that afternoon, as the sunlight paled and dusk began to loom, Clarke, Lexa, Elsa and Anna were gathered around a table in the castle library. Several sheets of paper covered with markings, some haphazard and jumbled but others neater and more legible, were scattered over the large table's dark wooden surface. Maps of Arendelle and the entire known world were still spread out on a nearby table, where after careful inspection Clarke had finally declared that Arendelle and the coastline of its neighboring countries, including the Southern Isles, seemed to correspond to a region called "Europe" back on her and Lexa's world.

"So I think we've gotten the basics of each other's worlds," Anna said cheerily as she scanned over the most recent list she had been making. "Sure, there are differences, but a lot's the same." She looked up to Clarke, where the blonde was partially leaning over the table looking at more of Anna's writing. "Can you draw us a picture of what the planet looks like?" she asked. "From where you grew up?"

The question made Clarke look up from the information she had been reviewing. "I'd be happy to," she said, giving the redhead a smile. "I know it sounds crazy to you, me growing up hundreds of miles above the planet."

"Oh, we've seen and done quite a few things that most people would consider crazy, until they see it for themselves," Elsa added.

"Your story _is_ truly fascinating," Lexa said. "Tragic for so long, but achieving happiness in the end." The part about the two queens being sisters prior to becoming lovers and spouses was certainly unusual, to put it mildly, but this was quite literally a different world, Lexa reminded herself, and the two of them _were_ quite obviously in love with each other.

"Much the same as what you've told us about _your_ experiences," Elsa replied politely. "And it sounds as if your world is much harsher than ours."

"Clarke and I are trying to change that," said Lexa. "By uniting our peoples and trying to prevent petty wars that could be avoided. And that is why we cannot allow these Azgeda still loyal to Nia to grow their ranks, much less bring Nia back from the dead."

"You know, yesterday I laughed at that idea as ridiculous superstition at best and a trick at worst," Clarke said, looking beside her to her wife. "But today..."

"Especially when speaking with one who has _already_ died and returned," added Lexa, nodding toward Anna.

"But the power of True Love isn't the force at play with these people trying to resurrect their dead queen," Elsa said, reaching for a sketch of Nia that Clarke had done less than an hour ago; the blonde artist had done a fine job capturing the thinly-disguised menace in the Azgeda queen's stern features. "They're dealing with something much darker, much more evil. The murders used for that ritual stand as proof."

Anna moved to stand next to Elsa, the two of them looking at the sketch of Nia for long seconds before Anna spoke again. "We've contacted a friend of ours who's more familiar with this type of magic than we are," Anna said. "Hopefully we'll hear from her in the next day or two. She should be able to give us some idea of what we're dealing with and how to stop it."

"Until then, Anna and I would very much like for the two of you to rest here," Elsa said, looking up and meeting first Clarke's eyes, then Lexa's. Seeing both of their guests open their mouths to protest, Elsa raised her right hand. "We're _not_ keeping you prisoner or confining you to the castle," Elsa said quickly. "You are certainly free to leave if you so choose. But the truth is, the two of you nearly died just a day ago. You're in unfamiliar territory, chasing dangerous people who outnumber you by an order of magnitude—"

"An order of what?" whispered Anna in Elsa's ear.

"—And possess a power about which we know almost nothing," Elsa finished, ignoring Anna's whisper. Seeing frustration war with pragmatism on both Lexa's and Clarke's faces, Elsa softened her tone and her expression. "We understand your need to stop these people. We have the same need to protect our citizens. But we also need to know as much about what we're dealing with as possible."

She reached up and took Anna's left hand, moving it to where she could gently kiss the knuckles. "Anna and I have rushed into these situations before, and we've very nearly paid a steep price more than once. We already have scouts out searching for these raiders, and they will contact us as soon as they find them. And then, once we have learned more about what magic they're capable of wielding, _then_ all four of us _together_ will deal with their threat."

Clarke and Lexa turned to look at each other, their eyes communicating before their words slipped past their lips.

"It would be foolish for the two of us to challenge an unknown number of Azgeda in these weather conditions," Lexa finally said quietly. "It _is_ their natural element."

"Plus this damn sorcerer they're supposed to have," Clarke added, her own voice just as quiet. "Especially since it sounds like he really can wield magic."

The two refugees from another world missed the wince of discomfort that flashed across Elsa's face at the derogatory tone in Clarke's voice when she said the term "sorcerer," but despite her position rendering her incapable of actually seeing that expression, Anna leaned forward and put her arms around Elsa's shoulders and neck, gently hugging her mate in a simple but heartfelt gesture of emotional support.

Elsa swallowed as tears began to form in her eyes. "Thank you," she whispered as she tilted her head forward enough to lightly kiss the freckled skin of Anna's bare arm just in front of her chin.

"Always," Anna replied with a soft whisper before placing a kiss on Elsa's right temple. "I will _always_ be here for you."

A deliberate intake of breath drew both queens' attention back to the two women standing on the other side of the table.

"You're right," Clarke said simply, nodding. "It would be suicide for Lexa and me to try to hunt them down in this blizzard, especially not even knowing where they are or how many warriors are with them. We don't even have any more horses at this point."

"We will barter with you for two horses," Lexa said, surprising Clarke, who turned to look at her wife. "Clarke is an artist of incredible skill, and I will hunt for you if you will let me."

"Lexa..." Clarke said, not exactly with a hiss but not exactly calmly. _Why was she saying such a thing_ now _?_

"We will need a means to reach them, my wife," Lexa said, turning to look at Clarke. "Once Nia's loyalists are finally found."

Clarke's mouth was already open, in the process of pointing out how _dumb_ her wife was being—politely, of course—about something fairly insignificant at the moment when she realized why Lexa said what she did.

They were stranded in a strange land, alive entirely out of the assistance and goodwill of strangers. Yes, they still had each other, and they still had their weapons and at least some of their supplies, but otherwise everything else was gone.

For Clarke, who had already been dumped unceremoniously into the middle of a foreign world where it seemed everything wanted to kill her and the rest of the 100, asking for help was not a big deal. But for the Commander of the Thirteen Clans, the fearsome absolute ruler of a people who prided themselves on being hardy and self-sufficient, being dependent upon others for anything was an enormous change of circumstance.

Pride played a part of it, of course, but Clarke was beginning to understand Lexa well enough to know that Lexa refused to let pride dictate her actions. The great Heda had no qualms about posing as a beggar, or fleeing certain death, or admitting a mistake when the situation warranted such actions. No, this was about more than just pride. This was about Lexa presenting not just herself but also Clarke as useful, as dignified women worthy of working with and negotiating with, not as down-on-their-luck victims of cruel circumstance desperately in need of assistance... no matter how true that might have been.

Clarke smiled. She smiled at how Lexa was so concerned about _her_ , not just about herself, to offer their services as barter for what would be essential supplies, all for the purpose of preserving their dignity, simply because it was truly about the only thing that Lexa could offer at that moment to the two monarchs who had saved their lives, fed and clothed them, and asked for nothing in return.

"Lexa," Clarke said tenderly, reaching out to lay her fingers on Lexa's right hand, an action which drew her wife's attention to her; the mixture of desperation and determination Clarke saw in those green eyes nearly made her own heart quiver at the realization of just how dire their situation was, for Lexa to be that severe in her conviction. Clarke swallowed, trying to use the contact between them to calm her partner. "I think I have a better option," she was finally able to speak.

Not waiting for a verbal approval from her wife and knowing that she didn't need one, as Lexa herself had reminded her already, Clarke turned to look at Anna and Elsa. "Your Majesties, Lexa, Heda of the Thirteen Clans, and Clarke, Wanheda and Heda of the Sky People, hereby propose an alliance between our two nations."

Seeing the warm smiles on Anna's and Elsa's faces, Clarke knew she had guessed right. "Obviously, the main goal of this alliance would be to find and eliminate the threat posed by the Azgeda and their sorcerer and whomever or whatever is killing people in northern Arendelle," Clarke continued. "And it they happen to be one and the same, so much better."

Elsa stood, with Anna matching her wife's action. "Normally, Anna and I would discuss a potential alliance with the Royal Court before agreeing to such an arrangement," Elsa said, still smiling. "However, given the rather unique qualities of the Thirteen Clans and the Sky People, I think it best if we go ahead and accept this offer of alliance. Do you feel the same, Anna?"

"Yep!" Anna said, nodding as well. "We're agreed. No need for me to have to overrule you, since it _is_ the Summer Queen's half of the year." Grinning even more at the nonplussed look Elsa gave her, Anna added, "Just in case you forgot."

Elsa continued to give Anna a vaguely dirty look. "Do you want to sleep alone tonight?" she asked, her voice serious.

"I could overrule that too."

"You could try."

"Smartypants."

"Brat."

The two queens stared intently at each others for several seconds, their faces tight with tension as Lexa and Clarke both watched with growing concern. Finally the tension was broken when, as one, Anna's and Elsa's expressions both relaxed into smiles.

"I love you," Anna said, just beating Elsa.

"Love you too," Elsa replied as they embraced each other, resting their heads on each other's shoulder. Seeing the looks of trepidation on the visages of their guests, Elsa turned Anna and herself so she could lift her head and address the blonde and the brunette. "Anna and I have a system to decide which of us has final say in the event we disagree on a matter of policy. Half of the year I have the final decision, and the other half of the year Anna has that right."

"And it happens to be my half of the year," Anna added, her voice muffled from her lips' contact against the smooth, warm skin of Elsa's bare neck. "So it's a good thing you agree with me."

Elsa rolled her eyes and sighed, which prompted a sly smile from Lexa and a quick but hastily-muffled snicker from Clarke.

—O—

"We'll take you two into the town tomorrow," Anna said as she, Lexa and Clarke stood just outside the castle's walls that night, the large gates behind them standing open, as was their usual custom since Elsa's initial ascension to the throne over fourteen years ago. "It's beautiful!" Anna added, unable to contain the sense of joy she always felt when she thought about being in the middle of so many people, so many voices and bodies and feelings, all swirling and bustling and _alive_ in a way that the castle simply could never be.

"I can't imagine it could be much more beautiful than this castle," Clarke said, taking in the lights twinkling and flickering in the buildings and houses that unfolded below them. "It looks like Polis at night," Clarke said, turning to look at Lexa, who was likewise scrutinizing the town just outside Arendelle Castle. "Doesn't it?"

Lexa nodded, admiring the soft sounds of voices carrying the distance through the darkness of the night, the movement of bodies in and out of the pools of light spilled from lanterns hung at intervals along the town's streets. It did seem like Polis, in a way, although her usual perspective from atop her tower was admittedly different than the view she currently enjoyed.

Her attention was wrenched from the oddly peaceful observation of the town by a disturbing, almost nauseating sensation. It was over nearly as soon as it swept over Lexa, with only a lingering burning sensation in her solar plexus to indicate the sensation had ever been there at all.

"What's wrong?" asked Clarke, already gently grasping Lexa's right upper arm, her face clearly concerned.

"I—I'm fine," Lexa said, although her voice definitely lacked much conviction. "Just a... queasy feeling that washed over me." She looked up as snow began to fall, going from a few flakes to a more steady precipitation in moments.

"You looked like you were about to throw up," Clarke continued; if anyone was aware of just how far Lexa would go to conceal any signs of weakness, it was definitely her, and something had definitely rattled her lover just then.

"Hello," came an eerie voice from behind them, with almost a stereo quality to it, causing the slightly high-pitched voice to send a shiver up Clarke's spine.

Clarke turned to look behind them, but Lexa's whirling turn nearly pulled Clarke to the ground when she made the mistake of trying to hold onto Lexa. Lexa's arms shot out to grab Clarke's shoulders, arresting the blonde's fall, but Lexa then seemed to freeze, with Clarke not quite back to standing but unable to shake off her partner's strong grip.

"Dammit, Lexa," Clarke swore softly, but as soon as she caught the expression on Lexa's face, Clarke's voice died in her throat. For Lexa's face was pale, ashen almost, and that was a look Clarke was not used to seeing on the face of the Heda of the Thirteen Clans.

Then Clarke's own head turned to regard what had so upset Lexa, and her own heart stuttered a beat. Or two.

—O—

The two young girls standing before them were beautiful, their bodies still small but with limbs and torsos starting to lengthen into the awkwardness of adolescence. Their long, loose hair was pale blonde, and the flickering lights of the torches on either side of the castle gates just behind them turned that blonde into a shining white gold. Their hair blew and tossed lightly on the wind, swirling behind their backs as their thin silver dresses likewise fluttered and blew with the gusts around them.

Clarke and Lexa were wearing coats and gloves, and the bite of the cold surrounding them was still palpable. Anna was wearing a long-sleeved dress, leggings, scarf, boots and not much more, which surprised Clarke but didn't seem to bother Arendelle's Summer Queen. But the dresses the two girls wore were so thin, judging by the way they were blowing in the wind, that they couldn't have provided any practical protection from the elements. But that didn't seem to bother the two blonde girls in the slightest.

They were twins, Clarke was certain, not just identical in physical appearance but also in their posture, in the way they stood, in the way their eyes, bright blue in a way they most certainly should _not_ be, not in a half-silhouette from the torches, seemed to pierce right through Clarke's clothes and skin and peer into her very soul.

"Hello girls," Anna said warmly, getting twin heads to turn just enough to look at her.

"Hello, Mother," the two barely-teenagers said in unison, producing the same eerie doubling quality to their voices as they pronounced each syllable in perfect synchronization.

"I have seen you before," said a voice next to Clarke, and only her turning to see the last words whisper from Lexa's lips could have convinced Clarke that the hesitant voice could have been Lexa's.

"Yes," spoke the blonde girl on the right, as Clarke and Lexa regarded them.

"You have," agreed her twin.

Lexa took a slow, unsteady step forward, moving with a trepidation Clarke hadn't seen since their encounter with the pauana. " _Where_ have I seen you?" Lexa asked, her voice containing a hint of menace that she hoped concealed the uncharacteristic worry beneath it. She had never met these two girls, but she _had_ seen them, in an image burned onto her mind's eye somewhere just out of grasp of her consciousness.

Anna watched carefully, her hand not drifting toward the handle of her sword thanks to years of learned discipline, but she could feel the sword itself twitch in its sheath, ready to spring forth at a moment's notice to defend Anna's family. Anna's curiosity had gone from teased to stoked at this point; neither Elin nor Erin had yet explained to their mothers how they had known Lexa and Clarke even existed, much less that they were in grave danger _and_ exactly where to find them in the middle of the night. And the two teenagers had proven resolute at resisting and evading questions of that nature, particularly when it came from their parents. The fact that the two girls had slipped out of the castle and flown on their ice dragons to personally rescue the two strangers only made the story even more intriguing to Anna.

The blonde girls' eyes shifted to Clarke, meeting the other blonde's surprised gaze for a long second before sliding away again, back to Lexa.

"Something is... wrong with our worlds," Elin finally said.

Erin nodded. "And when our world was injured, yours was affected as well. The blackness connected our worlds, and it does still."

"But the gate closed," Clarke said, suddenly aware of a possibility of them going home. "We saw it close."

Suddenly Lexa felt a twinge in her chest, just below her sternum, and the phantom pain was so abrupt and piercing that she nearly gasped. Her right hand went reflexively to that same spot, shielding it from a wound that had never happened but still ached. "When?" she asked, acutely aware as all eyes slid to her as she spoke hoarsely. "When did this happen?"

Rather than reply, Elin and Erin both turned to look at Anna. "Mother, would you please let us speak to them privately?" spoke Elin, her voice perfectly calm and composed.

 _No, I most certainly will not,_ was already on Anna's lips when she caught herself before speaking. There was a pleading look in her oldest daughters' eyes, though it likely would only have been visible to her or Elsa. Whatever Elin and Erin wanted to discuss with Clarke and Lexa, it was very important to them.

Swallowing her initial reaction, Anna nodded. "Alright," she said quietly. "I'll just go wait over there for a few minutes," she said, gesturing in the direction of the nearest guard hut. "Where I can keep watch over you," she added, deliberately leaving vague exactly what combination of people _you_ referenced. Clarke and Lexa were friendly and had been excellent guests, but her daughters' safety was something about which Anna was particularly protective.

The remaining four women watched Anna walk away and make a show of talking to two guards at their post, but all of them noted how she positioned herself to watch them very closely, whether or not she could hear them.

"She seems like a good mom," Clarke said, watching Anna's body language, suggesting a readiness to strike should such action become necessary. Ambivalence toward her own mother made Clarke's words ache slightly as she uttered them.

"Our mothers are wonderful," said one of the two blondes, who took a few steps closer. (It was Erin who spoke, but Clarke and Lexa had no way of knowing that.) They both smiled, trying to defuse some of the tension. "They are protective of us, but they try to let us find our own way through things where possible." She smiled. "I'm Erin."

"A product of their parents being so controlling of them, we're sure, and the resentment that naturally followed. And I'm Elin," added Elin, her voice just as quiet as her sister's. The twins looked at each other for a moment, sharing a look and a knowing smile for a moment before once again turning to regard the two newcomers.

Erin began softly saying, "When the portal between our worlds was opened, the magic that was used was dark, sinister—"

"Corrupted," interjected Elin.

"Yes, corrupted," agreed Erin with a soft smile. "Anyway, that corruption, that maliciousness spilled from what was done in our world into yours."

"And once it was there," Elin smoothly picked up, "we think it was drawn to the brightest, happiest emotions it could sense..."

"So it could try to choke them."

"Exactly."

"To smother them in its hate and destructive power."

The two girls shared another little glance and smile, then they fell silent. Long seconds passed as Clarke and Lexa carefully considered the girls' words, turning them over in their heads, until...

"Wait," Clarke said, shaking her head. "Positive emotions. And happiness."

The pale blonde girls nodded again, frustratingly quiet and calm in their measured response.

Clarke looked to Lexa. The color was beginning to return to her mate's complexion, and now Clarke could see the intense concentration that was Lexa's hallmark when it came to planning.

"When did this darkness bridge our worlds?" Lexa asked, lifting her eyes to fix the two girls with an intense green gaze while her head remained slightly tilted downward.

The twins' fair complexion made the flushing of their faces easy to discern, particularly at the relatively close distance between the two pairs of women. Neither teenager seemed eager to speak first, a fact confirmed when one nudged the other, only to receive a firmer nudge back in return. This in turn was followed by a glower from Erin directed at Elin, who then sighed dramatically.

"Fine," Elin grumbled. She looked back at Clarke and Lexa, and the blush suffusing her cheeks seemed to double. "It happened when you two were... together."

"We didn't mean to pry!" Erin quickly insisted, leaning forward. Elin shook her head vigorously in assent. "We really didn't!"

"But when we could suddenly see your world, your spirits were so _bright_ ," added Elin. "Sometimes when we're asleep we..."

"We sort of..."

" _See_ things."

"Yes," Erin said with a quick nod. "And we saw how happy you two were, and that plus the intensity of your spirits drew our attention immediately!"

"But unfortunately it drew something _else's_ attention too."

"Right, El. And that nastiness scared us badly."

"Badly."

" _Really_ badly."

"But it was too focused on the two of you to notice us! And when we saw it try to hurt you—"

"We _had_ to do something!"

"We couldn't let it happen!"

"So we tried to reach you, to warn you, and normally we can't do anything like that, but somehow—"

"Somehow you heard us," finished Elin, her voice growing nearly as soft as a whisper as she finished. The two twins were nearly out of breath from talking so much so quickly and from the adrenaline surging through their young bodies.

Lexa narrowed her eyes, but before she could speak, she suddenly saw a flash of an image from deep in her memory. It was two young blonde girls, dressed in white, gesticulating and silently screaming at her. She closed her eyes to concentrate on the fleeting image, but then the same shooting pain as before lanced through her chest, sending her to her knees.

At the sight of Lexa falling roughly to the ground, Clarke instantly dropped down beside her, clutching Lexa's left hand tightly as Lexa shivered roughly. "Lexa! What's wrong?" Clarke asked hurriedly. "Are you okay?"

Lexa's mouth opened, allowing her to roughly speak. "I—" she began, only to stop short. "I... I think so."

Lexa looked up to see mirrored concern on the faces of the girls standing before them. She watched as the two girls knelt down with her and Clarke, their faces kind but with an otherwordly quality to them at the moment. Maybe it was the flickering torchlight, or the falling snow, or just the accumulation of such many incredible events in the last day, but Lexa shuddered as she scrutinized their faces, much as others had scrutinized hers over the years. Had those people over the years seen something equally uncanny in her face? In her eyes?

"Lexa! Talk to me."

"I am fine, my _houmon_ ," Lexa said, covering Clarke's left hand with her free right hand. She turned to look at Clarke and forced herself to smile slightly. "Truly."

Clarke's expression clearly indicated how full of shit she thought Lexa was at the moment, causing Lexa to sigh wearily. "Clarke," Lexa said softly.

"Lexa," Clarke replied, firmly.

Lexa turned away from Clarke but continued to hold Clarke's hand with her own as she looked once again at the two girls. "It was in the tower. When Titus was trying to kill Clarke. Wasn't it?" She swallowed, refusing to cry. "I was running to help Clarke, when I saw a flash of light and felt a sharp pain in my chest," she said slowly.

The twins nodded once, slowly. "Yes," they said in unison once again.

Lexa considered her words carefully for several seconds before she spoke again. A look at Clarke showed that tears of worry had already formed in Clarke's eyes, and they threatened to spill onto her cheeks at any moment. Not wanting to worry her partner any more than she was already, Lexa turned her attention back to the girls. "What... was going to happen to me?" she asked, her voice just above a whisper.

The chin of the twin on the left trembled slightly as her sister replied, just as quietly as Lexa had spoke, "I think you know."

Lexa's own eyes snapped closed, and she immediately devoted all her willpower toward the sole purpose of _not_ crying. Yes, of course she knew what would have happened, regardless of how much she didn't want to even consider it.

Titus, firing a Skaikru gun wildly. Lexa, racing into danger blindly out of concern for Clarke. The sudden, piercing pain in her chest. The bullet passing just over Lexa immediately after she fell to the ground from the phantom pain.

"Tell me what I can do, Lexa," Clarke hissed, her voice tight with worry and frustration at not being able to do anything to stop whatever mental torment Lexa was suffering.

"I..." Lexa gasped, her eyes opened, revealing them to be shot with red as they locked with Clarke's own stinging eyes. "I... was going to die," Lexa whispered, clutching tightly to Clarke's shirt beneath the open coat.

Stunned by the statement, Clarke was helpless to resist when Lexa pulled their bodies together where they knelt, with Lexa burying her face against Clarke's neck. "I was supposed to die," Lexa whispered again.

Ignoring her own tears as they fell down her cheeks, Clarke closed her eyes and lowered her head. "But you didn't," she said roughly. "You're still here. You're still with me."

Clarke's chest burned, the breath in her lungs ragged as she held fast to Lexa, both of them reliving those harrowing moments where two lives hung suspended by a single delicate thread of fate. "We're still fighting, Lexa," Clarke said, her lips against the shoulder of Lexa's coat. "We're still fighting together."

The gossamer feel of arms carefully encircling her made Clarke lift her head, revealing one of the twins kneeling to her right, the other to her left, as the two girls delicately embraced her and Lexa.

—O—

"What are they talking about?" asked Elsa as she stopped behind Anna, wrapping her arms around her wife as the two of them, along with Hilde, watched Erin and Elin shuffle forward to hug the kneeling Clarke and Lexa, who both appeared to be crying and comforting each other.

Anna shook her head slowly and carefully. Cracking heads with Elsa hurt more than would be expected, something Anna was sure had to do with her sister's thick skull. "No idea," she replied, her voice quiet. "El and Er were talking about how something evil had connected our worlds, and Lexa had said that she had somehow seen the girls before."

Elsa considered those words carefully. "Perhaps a dream? Or a vision of some sort?"

"Yeah, that's what I'd think too," replied Anna. "I mean, _something_ woke the girls up in the middle of the night and sent them out into the mountains. And then they come back with two strange women, nearly frozen to death but still clinging tightly to each other."

Elsa sighed. "They _are_ our daughters, my heart."

Anna smiled and nodded. "Yeah, never do anything the easy way, right?"

Elsa kissed Anna's cheek as they watched the small gathering across the courtyard begin to slowly rise to their feet. "I still blame you for that," Elsa said cheerfully.

Rather than protest, Anna simply tilted her head back and smiled happily as she relaxed into Elsa's embrace. "And you still love me for it, too."

"Absolutely," Elsa said tenderly as she kissed Anna's freckled cheek again.

—O—

 **Author's Afterword:** Next chapter we finally get to see just whom Elsa and Anna called for assistance with such a peculiar matter. It's _not_ Rapunzel, by the way. I think you'll like who it turns out to be even more, and I think this particular character (or characters) fits this story quite well. I've been looking forward to this for a while.

And after that? Well, it wouldn't really be fair if only _one_ of our couples got to visit a different world, would it? Still LOTS of story to go in this one. I'm estimating 24 chapters overall, but then I tend to suck at estimating like that, so who knows. We'll also get back to Harper and Monroe in the next chapter or two.

As always, will update when I can. It'll be slow, but the updates will come until the story is finished. See you soon!


	6. Ch 6: Love's Life Is Anything But Still

**Author's Note:** I hope everyone has had a happy holiday season and an enjoyable holiday (or holidays) of your choice! Time for another chapter in our story.

I hope this chapter can add some happiness to your day, especially if things have been tough lately. Hang in there. You're loved and you deserve to live your own life. Don't ever let anyone convince you otherwise.

Cover Art for the story is from the LexaRecovery tumblr. Stay strong together.

 _I do not own the television show "The 100" or make any claims upon it or its characters. Similarly, I do not own Frozen, its characters or any Disney characters or property. All these characters are used under the concept of Fair Use, and I make no profit or income from using any of them._

 **Our Fight Is Not Over**

by Jo K.

Chapter 6: Love's Life Is Anything But Still

 _I know that I'm damned if I never get out_

 _And maybe I'm damned if I do_

 _But with every little beat I got left in my heart_

 _I'd rather be damned with you_

-Meatloaf, "Bat out of Hell"

—O—

Harper lay back on the large towel they had spread over the soft moss, happy and content as she and Zoe Monroe held other peacefully. The splashing and burbling of the nearby waterfall as it cascaded into the pool beside their repose soothed their nerves as they let their bodies relax. Their clothes continued to dry where they hung from the drying rack Harper had made two weeks ago, but the afternoon sun kept them warm as they nestled against one another, nerve endings still tingling in Harper's belly and pelvis after she and Monroe had made love under the waterfall earlier.

Harper hummed happily as she relaxed, eyes closed as she once again enjoyed the relative isolation she and Monroe had chosen for their place to live. 

After a few minutes, Harper leaned her head forward enough to place a kiss on Monroe's head, the smaller girl's clingy auburn hair still in the process of drying. "As much as we love these warm days, we do need to start on building something more substantial than a tent, baby," Harper said to her lover.

"Yeah," Monroe mumbled against Harper's right breast, the tickling sensation drawing a quiet laugh from the ash blonde. "I guess we can find some kind of house plans in the Ark," she said, but the tone in her voice was far from convincing.

"They've already started on some of the community houses on the other side of Arkadia," replied Harper, shifting her left leg slightly to the side to relieve some of the ache that had just begun in her left hip.

"Yeah, I know," Monroe said softly. "We had to treat Richmond yesterday after he laid one of his fingers open with a planer."

"Ugh," Harper grumbled. "You didn't pass out, did you?"

Monroe replied by digging her fingers into Harper's ribs on both sides of her torso, causing her lover to shriek and nearly toss the shorter, more petite redhead off of her entirely. "I don't get sick from seeing blood!" Monroe protested playfully. "You should know that..."

As her girlfriend grew quiet, though, Harper knew exactly where Zoe Monroe's train of thought was taking her. "Hey," Harper said, carefully but firmly grasping her partner's chin, holding her fingers in place until Monroe turned to look Harper directly in the eyes. "You have to let it go, Zoe," Harper said softly. "You've suffered your punishment for what you did." Harper stared into Monroe's green eyes until she felt confidant Zoe was listening to her. "You already died for your sins, Zoe, _literally_ ," Harper said, her voice a whisper. "And you're still here, you're still with me, and you're not ever going to do anything like that again."

"No," Monroe said, closing her eyes against the burning of tears forming. "I'm not."

"I know," Harper said tenderly, pulling Monroe almost completely on top of her as she held her lover tightly until Monroe's shivering stopped. The redhead's breathing, still with a soft rasp audible when they were this close, grew softer and steadier until she had dozed off, making Harper smile again.

"Hello," a voice called out unexpectedly, its accent unusual but no more so than its mere presence.

Instantly Harper was scrambling up, reaching for the pistol she carried when off-duty; it was currently resting beside them with their packs and empty water containers, waiting to be filled before they made their way back to their tent.

"Wait! I mean you no harm!" called out the voice, now clearly female.

Harper paused, while Monroe had turned her body enough to scan the nearby trees for the speaker. Naked or not, she was going to protect Harper, and she was more than happy to use her body as a shield for her partner.

Finally movement among the shadows of the woods drew their eyes to a girl walking out of the thicker part of the forest, approaching them. She appeared to be in her early to mid-teens, close to Harper's and Monroe's age; she had a simple recurve bow slung across her body, a quiver of arrows on her back and a knife on her belt, but her hands were empty and held up and out in front of her. Her clothing appeared to be a patchwork of fabric and leather, in the usual style of the grounders, with her arms bare save for what appeared to be a leather guard on the inside of her left arm.

"Please," the girl said, stopping about thirty feet away. "I truly mean you no harm."

"Well, you kind of scared the hell out of us," Harper said testily. Despite most of the left side of her body being completely exposed, she pointedly refused to cover or conceal her nudity, or that of Monroe lying atop her. They had come to terms with their bodies, they had no shame about their feelings for each other, and this girl was intruding on their private time in their private place. Plus, who knows how long she had been watching them already?

"How long were you watching us?" Harper snapped at the girl, now slowly approaching and close enough for them to make out details, such as the slight point of the girl's chin, the small but evident scar on her left cheek, and the curiosity in her green eyes.

Now the girl's face flushed brightly. "I... I turned away to give you and your _houmon_ privacy when you were—" The girl visibly swallowed, her eyes darting away, then back again. "Earlier," she mumbled, waving her right hand dismissively in a gesture that surprised Harper, so similar to a gesture other teenagers would have used on the Ark.

" _Why_ were you watching us?" Monroe asked, her voice particularly sharp at the way the girl was openly staring at Harper.

"I..." began the girl, before her voice trailed off as she tried to count the small but numerous scars visible at Harper's left hip, left leg, left arm, left clavicle, marring the young woman's otherwise smooth skin.

"Hey!" Monroe snapped, startling the grounder girl.

"I—I'm sorry!" the girl said rapidly. "I brought you gifts," she added quickly, unslinging a leather travel pack from over her head and shoulder. She started to walk toward Harper and Monroe, only to halt after two shaky steps when she saw Harper quietly slide the handle of a knife into Monroe's left hand.

"No, I truly mean you and your _houmon_ no harm, _Jusdonosir!"_ the girl said hurriedly. She held out her left arm, still holding the bulging leather bag in her left hand. "These items are for you."

Keeping her eyes carefully on both Monroe and Harper, the girl knelt, gently placing the bag on the mossy ground between them. As she released the strap, the girl bowed her head. "My _nomon_ —my mother—was taken by the _Maunon_ ," the girl said quietly. "By the Mountain Men."

At the mention of that name, Monroe felt as much as heard Harper's sharp intake of breath.

"None of my people taken into _Maun-de_ had ever returned," continued the girl. "Not until Heda and Wanheda freed them, and Wanheda claimed the lives of the Maunon as punishment for their crimes."

Harper's emotions were too troubled to form words, and suddenly her and Monroe's nakedness shifted from being proud and defiant to being exposed and vulnerable. She shivered once as she reached for the nearby towel, but her hand was trembling too much to properly grasp it. Zoe's small hand gently enclosed her own, and Harper closed her eyes and smiled despite her tears at the gesture of support from her girlfriend. Wordlessly Monroe tugged the large towel to them, and together she and Harper draped it over their chests and hips.

"Thanks," Harper weakly whispered, looking into Monroe's green eyes, getting a tender smile in return. Instead of replying verbally, Monroe softly pressed her lips against Harper's for a second, pulling away to look back at the Trikru girl, who had not moved from where she knelt.

The girl was looking at them, eyes wide and bright as she took in the gesture of support between Harper and Monroe. "I wish... I wish to thank you, _Jusdonosir_ ," the girl said, tears beginning to form in her eyes. "For keeping my mother alive long enough for her to return to us as _Maun-de_ fell."

Before she could reply, Harper watched the girl shoot to her feet, turn and run back into the trees.

"What the hell was that about?"

Harper blinked a few times before her brain registered that Monroe was talking to her. "I... I don't know," Harper whispered in reply, just as confused as her girlfriend.

—O—

In an entirely different world, he watched with delight as the prisoners dug the pit. Despite the freezing temperatures, the shovels and mattocks had finally broken through the permafrost once the snow had been cleared.

He turned as his ears registered shouts and cries far behind him. He saw a contingent of guards thrusting blunt poles into one of the barred carts hauling more prisoners, but then his attention was drawn toward the stony-faced man walking toward him.

"Hello, Emerson," spoke the sorcerer, his voice subtly emphasizing the _s_ in Carl Emerson's name with a faint hiss that made Emerson's skin crawl. "Is there a problem with the prisoners?"

"Not really," Emerson replied, stopping to stand beside the auburn-haired man, clean-shaven but with oddly full sideburns. "I think they're starting to figure out there's no good way out of this for them."

Emerson's brief shiver was readily noticed by the other man, whose ruddy eyebrows lifted slightly. "You don't have to participate in the ritual itself," spoke the man. "In fact, if your heart isn't going to be in it, it'd be best for you not to be present when things begin. It could weaken the potency of the magic."

Emerson nodded, refusing to look at the other man. "You'll get no argument from me on that front," he said quietly, turning to leave.

Before he could actually take a step away, he heard the sorcerer speak.

"Sometimes we must do terrible things to achieve what we want, what we _need_. Things that scar our souls."

Emerson stopped, but didn't turn to face the man from another world. "Funny," he said flatly. "You sound an awful lot like the bitch who killed my family."

Hans Westergard smiled, a cold, cruel thing that stretched across his aristocratic face. "I _do_ so hope I get a chance to meet her," he said pleasantly, never tearing his gaze away from the prisoners digging the pit that would become the centerpiece of the gruesome ritual he had meticulously planned.

Emerson swallowed once. He hated the cold. He hated this world. He hated the savage, primitive Azgeda. He hated this sorcerer. But there were a few things, one young blonde woman above all, he hated even more. "I hope you do, too," he finally said.

—O—

It was the soft rapping of knuckles upon wood that woke Clarke from her sleep, and that unusual occurrence left the blonde momentarily disoriented.

She blinked her eyes open against the heaviness of sleep. She felt slightly groggy, and it took her a few moments to realize that the grogginess came from the fact she had slept the entire night, undisturbed by her customary nightmares.

As Clarke gently moved Lexa's strong left arm from where it remained protectively draped over her, she turned and placed a kiss on Lexa's forehead.

Without opening her eyes, Lexa sighed, but before she could stir, Clarke gently pressed her fingertips to Lexa's bare shoulder, pleased when Lexa snuggled deeper into the bed and smiled in her sleep.

Carefully Clarke extricated herself from the bed, quickly but quietly grabbing a light brown pair of pants and shirt that she had picked out the night before. She took them with her into the bathroom, dressing in the bathroom once she was finished. She took her belt from the table still covered with weapons, then she retrieved her pistol from where it rested just beneath her pillow, sliding it gently into the holster as she adjusted the belt around her waist.

She was nearly at the door to their room when she stopped and smiled as she saw a small pile of sketch pads, charcoal and colored pencils carefully placed on one of the small tables in the room. She crossed the short distance to more closely inspect the items that had to have been placed there overnight or earlier that morning before she awoke.

In addition to the assortment of art materials, lying atop one of the sketch pads was a carefully drawn diagram of what had to be the castle, only instead of writing in a language which Clarke likely wouldn't be able to read, simple pictures had been drawn and keyed to indicate different areas of the castle.

Clarke nearly laughed at the ingenuity someone had put into the map, with a blonde head and a brunette head indicating what was likely the bedroom she and Lexa currently occupied, a table with food on it marking one room, two thrones indicating a throne room and flowers for an outdoor area that might represent a garden. Being careful not to make any noise, she carefully picked up a coat and gloves, then took one of the larger sketch pads and a small leather case of pencils and charcoals before opening the door and stepping out into the hallway.

Her heart skipped a beat when she saw two guards standing just outside the door, spears resting against the floor, and she nearly dropped the things she was carrying when her left hand reflexively went for her pistol. But they only smiled and lightly bowed when they turned to look at her, then they returned to their previous guard positions.

Clarke mumbled an apology, regardless of whether or not they could understand it, then she started down the hallway toward the main staircase. After several steps, she looked up to see a petite blonde walking toward her. Her pale hair was lighter than Clarke's but not quite as platinum as Elsa's, long enough to hang down just below her shoulders but brushed back and pinned up and in place with white and pink hair pins. She was wearing an intensely red-orange dress that immediately made Clarke think of the coral wax crayon she had found shortly after landing on the ground, with a simple pearl necklace falling just above her collarbones and tan leather boots barely visible beneath the long hem of her dress slightly tempering the brightness of the dress's fabric.

"Hello," Clarke said, out of reflex as much as anything else, then she winced as she realized that the woman wasn't going to be able to understand her. They had still not determined exactly why Anna, Elsa and their twin daughters were able to comprehend what Clarke and Lexa said and vice versa, and that continued to annoy each of them.

The woman smiled and replied, the consonants and vowels still not adding up to anything Clarke was familiar with. But then the woman reached up and touched the a bleached white shell that made up part of her necklace.

Instantly the shell glowed a warm yellow briefly before fading back to the bone-white it had been before.

"Can you understand me now?" asked the woman, her smile even broader than before.

" _Yes!"_ Clarke nearly shouted. "Oh my God, yes!" She stared at the necklace, than back at the woman's face. "How did you do that?!"

"It's the necklace," replied the woman, gesturing toward the necklace but not actually touching it. "It has a translation spell on it that lets me speak and understand different languages. I don't normally wear it except on business, but when Hilde explained to me the situation with you and your partner, I thought it might be helpful."

The blonde extended her right hand. "I'm Arista," she said.

"Clarke," replied the visitor from another world as she freed her right hand long enough to grasp and shake Arista's proffered hand. "And my wife is Lexa, but, um, she's still asleep." Clarke smiled sheepishly. "Yesterday was kind of a crazy day."

"I bet." Arista had been just been briefed by Elsa earlier that morning, and Hilde had told her much of the story Clarke and Lexa had related to Anna and Elsa last night after Arista had returned to the castle from another scouting trip deep into the north.

Clarke nodded. "Still processing that magic is real," she said quietly.

"It's funny," Arista replied. "To me, a world _without_ magic is just as hard to comprehend." She smiled slyly, almost teasingly. "I was born what you'd call a mermaid."

Clarke dumbly stared at the blonde for several seconds. "You're shitting me," she finally said. "You have to be."

Arista shook her head slowly, still grinning. She turned around, spotting a nearby open door and then walking over to it. She stopped just in the doorway, then turned back to Clarke. She jumped up, grabbing the doorway's wooden frame with her fingertips and pulling herself up until her feet were nearly half a meter off the ground. Seeing that Clarke was watching her intently, Arista winked once, then a shimmer of red-orange light formed around her lower body, completely covering it for less than a second before fading to reveal a thick, muscular tail covered with crimson scales lightening to a soft pink at the very end poking out from beneath the hem of her dress. Arista flexed her tail back and forth once before another shimmer of red-orange sparkles and mist sprung to life; when it faded, Arista's lower legs and feet were once again where they should be. A moment after that, she dropped to the floor once again.

"Picked up that little trick after my father was killed," Arista said as she walked back over to Clarke, who was still speechless. "All of us inherited some of his magic. My oldest sister got most of it, but each of us somehow got the ability to change back and forth into a human form. Learning to walk was kind of a mess, but I got it down after a few weeks."

Perhaps every day she spent in Arendelle Clarke would see something else that would render her speechless. She was seriously considering that possibility.

"I take it they don't have mermaids where you come from either?" asked Arista, a saucy smirk stretching between her fair cheeks.

"Definitely not," Clarke finally managed to say.

"But then you've probably got stuff we don't have either, right?" Arista pointed at the holstered pistol on Clarke's belt. "Probably that's one of them, because I've never seen anything like it. It's a weapon of some kind?"

Clarke nodded. Lexa would be deflecting the question, and God knows that probably would have been the smartest response to the innocent-sounding inquiry, but at this point Clarke felt like honesty was the best way to go. They had been treated respectfully, graciously and honestly as far as Clarke could tell, and it was time she and Lexa repaid that. "It's called a pistol," she said quietly. "I can't really demonstrate for you in here, but yeah, it's most definitely a weapon."

Arista nodded. "Most things with triggers tend to involve someone or something getting hurt. I usually see them on crossbows, but the trigger on your little 'pistol' seemed obvious enough."

Clarke nodded. "It works on the same principle as a cannon, with gunpowder and a metal projectile, but small enough to carry and with the ability to fire multiple times before having to reload."

Arista blinked several times. "Gods," she mumbled, her gaze lingering on the black device for several seconds before she was able to tear it away and refocus on Clarke's face. "Surely it's not as destructive as a cannon." _I hope._

"No, definitely not, but it's more than enough to kill someone, even at a distance."

There was an uncomfortable silence for several seconds before Arista cleared her throat. "Well, while a darker part of me wants to see a demonstration, the rest of me hopes that I never do," she replied honestly, while making a mental note to urgently brief her Queens on the capabilities of this "pistol."

Clarke nodded. "I feel the same way," she said quietly. "But life has a way of making us do shitty things we wish we'd never had to do."

Arista's eyes snapped back to Clarke's, and briefly Clarke saw haunted emotions swirl deep in the blonde's ice blue eyes. Her fair face never betrayed anything in its careful expression, but Clarke had seen that same look of longing, of regret, of sad acceptance in many pairs of eyes over the last year, in her own eyes most of all.

"Yeah, it does," Arista replied, her barely-audible voice just above a whisper. "But someone has to do them. To protect others from having to do those things. Or from having them done _to_ them."

Clarke smiled, and despite the sadness she felt in her own heart at being reminded of the horrible things she had had to do since coming to the ground, she felt a kind of kinship in this odd woman—this _mermaid_ , for God's sake—she had just met. Deciding to put self-recrimination behind her for at least a day, Clarke forced a smile on her face. "So... where's a nice place to just sit and relax here?"

—O—

Three hours later, on the far side of the castle, what would have been a routine meeting of Arendelle's Royal Council had been spiced up with the addition of a rather unusual observer.

As two of the more recalcitrant members of the Council degenerated into bickering over the latest trade proposal from Balta, Elsa looked to her left and gave Lexa a warm smile, despite the admittedly fearsome appearance of the woman from another world.

Lexa was dressed in the clothes she had originally arrived in, now cleaned with the dark fabric once again black as a starless night and the dark leather nearly gleaming. A strange design had been painted onto Lexa's face, reminiscent of both tears and a spread pair of dark wings, and the way Lexa's bright green eyes seemed to glow in the midst of the dark paint certainly made for an intimidating presence.

Those intelligent green eyes shifted to meet Elsa's blue ones.

"Sometimes I let them argue for a bit," Elsa whispered as she leaned slightly toward Lexa, coaxing a sly smile out of the fierce brunette. "It helps them vent some frustration, especially when it's two older nobles who've been at odds with each other for years."

Lexa nodded once. "I usually just throw someone off the balcony of my tower," she whispered back, her face carefully stoic.

Elsa smiled back. "I suppose that subdues the discussion rather quickly."

Lexa nodded. "Generally so."

"I just usually do this," Elsa said, lifting and flicking her right hand through the air as she and Lexa looked at each other conspiratorially.

Abruptly the air grew cold, then a brief but strong deluge of snow fell throughout the room, almost instantly covering everyone and everything except for Elsa and Lexa. Only seconds later, Elsa waved her hand again, and the snow vanished immediately, leaving most of the council red-faced but dry, still sporting looks of shock. A few papers had been nudged out of place, but they were once again dry and otherwise undisturbed once the snow dissipated.

Elsa turned to regard the dozen-or-so council members present that day. "Are you done bickering yet, Count Hjaller, Marquis Sigurdsson?" she asked coolly. Receiving delayed but curt nods in response, Elsa smiled pleasantly. "Excellent. Then perhaps we can return to a subject I've been saving for the end of the meeting—the murders in the north."

At once the men and few women in the room sat up straighter, their eyes becoming more intent and losing the glassiness of fatigue and boredom. Seeing the change in demeanor, Elsa nodded imperceptibly, then gestured beside her with her left hand to indicate Lexa. "As I mentioned at the start of this council meeting, Heda Lexa of the Thirteen Clans is here pursuing a band of rogues and murderers who have fled their lands, from very far away." _Much farther than any of you could imagine,_ she added mentally.

"Lexa and her mate, Clarke, believe that this group of raiders is to blame for the murders up north. As such, they have offered their nation's support as well as their personal assistance in helping to pursue and capture these brigands."

The murmuring that sprang to life in the council chamber was quite expected to Elsa, although it remained odd to Lexa, who generally did not tolerate whispered discussions among her own council. But a close look at Elsa revealed the Arendellan Queen was entirely comfortable with such discussion, and she answered Lexa's questioning gaze with a reassuring smile.

"Councillors," Elsa finally spoke, quietly but firmly, and at once the entire chamber fell silent once more. "Anna and I have already accepted the offer of aid from the Thirteen Clans on behalf of Arendelle. Several days ago, we dispatched riders to warn the villages in the north of Arendelle, as the family that was found slain lived in isolation several days away from the nearest settlement. While it would be impossible for our riders to individually warn every house, hopefully the villages will be able to spread the word to the nearby homes more efficiently once they have been made aware of this incident."

A raised hand drew Elsa's and Lexa's attention. "Gentlewoman Stokke," Elsa said in acknowledgment to an older woman, who stood once recognized, long but curly white hair hanging loose behind her.

"Your Majesty," the woman said politely, bowing quickly and simply. "There have been rumors circulating among some families of Arendelle regarding... the gruesome nature of the deaths."

Elsa nodded once, and the smile faded from her face. "Yes," she said simply, then paused. "Unfortunately, this seems to be a situation where the rumors are most likely true." Again the whispers began, but they ceased as soon as Elsa spoke again. "Anna and I are already working on this. As soon as these murderers are found, we, along with Heda Lexa and Wanheda Clarke, will bring these killers to a swift end."

The anger that was evident on Elsa's otherwise-controlled visage made Lexa raise a dark eyebrow. It was the most evidence Lexa had seen yet that the Winter Queen was indeed capable of the grim actions that being a ruler required, and while most people would have considered the acceptance of killing's necessity to be a moral failing, for Lexa it was, sadly, much the opposite. Those who would wantonly brutalize and murder others would never stop willingly; it would instead fall upon others to claim the burden of ending such monsters' sowing of terror and tears, even should it cost them their own souls.

Such was the burden of being a leader. Lexa had known and understood that from an early age. To be Heda was to sacrifice one's self, one's own life, for the good of those she or he commanded. But there was even more required to be the best ruler possible, and _that_ was a lesson that had taken Lexa her whole life—and one proud, stubborn, brave, brilliant blonde girl from the sky—to learn.

A leader who ruled by fear and respect could lead a people to peace, to stability, to prosperity. Such a ruler could ensure her people survived. But a ruler whose people loved her in addition to respecting her, well, such a ruler could give her people the opportunity to truly _live_ , to thrive and prosper and cultivate happiness in their lives.

Such a ruler was rare indeed. But Lexa realized she was looking at one that very moment. She had watched the blonde skillfully conduct her council meeting for the last two hours, smoothing out differences, solving supply issues with different cities, dealing with legal questions, reviewing and issuing rulings and statements, all without having to overtly threaten a single person.

Lexa sighed. Unfortunately, that management approach simply wouldn't work in her and Clarke's world. Not for many years to come, she feared.

"This council meeting is hereby adjourned," Elsa spoke, bringing Lexa's thoughts back to the present situation. The men and women of Arendelle's Royal Council stood and began to file out of the room after politely bowing once more to Elsa, then the blonde Queen turned her attention back to Lexa.

"Was it different from your usual council meetings?" asked Elsa, and Lexa could detect no hint of condescension or criticism in the question, just what felt like honest curiosity.

Lexa blinked once, then decided to take the conversation in a different direction. "How long have you and your mate ruled?" she asked, and immediately she hated how young she sounded as she spoke the words.

"Anna and I have ruled Arendelle for fifteen years now," Elsa replied quietly.

Lexa nodded. The confidence and skill with which she had watched Elsa handle her councilors certainly fit with many years of experience. "So you were children when you ascended to the throne?"

Elsa laughed, and Lexa had to tamp down the flicker of irritation she felt at the reaction to her inquiry.

"Not quiet," Elsa said, regaining her calm composure. "I was crowned ruler on my twentieth birthday, and Anna and I married shortly after that, making her Queen as well. She was eighteen."

Confusion flashed across Lexa's face, entirely out of place with the fearsome ebony mask of war paint. "But that would make you thirty-five," she said. "And you appear to be the same age as me."

Elsa nodded. "I _am_ thirty-five," she said. "And Anna is thirty-three. We had Elin and Erin during the second year of our reign, just before the second anniversary of my coronation."

Lexa inclined her head slightly. "My apologies for my assumption regarding your ages," she said quietly.

"No apology needed," Elsa quickly replied. "It's a different world, with different rules."

Lexa smiled. "Indeed it is."

Elsa gently patted Lexa's hand once. "Shall we go find our brides, Heda Lexa?"

Another nod, and now Lexa's smile grew wider. "I would like that very much, Your Majesty."

—O—

It had taken Anna several minutes to find where Clarke had sequestered herself in the castle gardens, but as she finally spotted the wavy blonde hair amidst the multicolored sea of ice flowers, Anna had to admit that this spot was likely the best place to be in the entire garden.

"They're beautiful, aren't they?"

Clarke jumped at the sound of someone's voice, nearly dropping the sketch pad holding her latest drawing. "Jesus!" she hissed, clutching at her chest. "I didn't hear you coming!"

Anna smiled. "Sorry," she said teasingly. She spread her arms and looked from side to side. "This is my favorite part of the garden, too," she said, using a quieter voice as she watched Clarke visibly try to settle herself.

"Are these all ice?" Clarke asked, still finding it hard to believe despite over an hour spent examining, touching, sniffing and finally drawing several of the otherworldly flowers crafted entirely from magical ice, that they looked and moved nearly identically to regular flowers.

Anna nodded. "In this section, yes. This way part of the garden is always in bloom, so to speak." She leaned forward to more closely peer at the drawing of the gold and orange lily-like blossoms Clarke had been in the process of drawing. "Wow! You really _are_ a good artist."

"Huh?" Clarke reflexively replied, looking first to Anna and then following the redhead's gaze back to her arms. "Oh! Uh, thanks!" She offered the pad to Anna for closer examination. "I starting drawing at an early age. It relaxes me."

"These are lovely," Anna murmured, mostly to herself as she looked through the completed drawings Clarke had quickly accumulated.

"Are all these Elsa's?" asked Clarke, looking around again. "I mean, she made them all herself?"

Anna looked back up, then she smiled. "We actually make them together. Sometimes we'll start with a specific idea or color for a flower or two, but most of the time we just hold hands and walk through the garden, or stand in one spot and hug and kiss while the magic flows through us and spills out."

"And together that makes all these..." Clarke said, her voice trailing off as she considered that she might have to broaden her definition of the term _artist_.

The soft clicking of heels on stone announced someone approaching them, and by the way Anna's smile stretched across her face, Clarke was fairly sure she knew just who it was. However, she wasn't entirely prepared to see Lexa, fully garbed as Heda, walking beside Elsa as the two talked and smiled, as if they were two old friends sharing stories.

"Looks like our wives have had a good morning so far, huh?" Anna said cheerily. There was no hint of jealously or hidden intent in her voice. She and Elsa had been through far too much and understood each other far too well for there to be any misunderstanding or insecurity between them.

"Hopefully Lexa managed to not kill anyone at your council meeting this morning," Clarke said, only half-joking. Seeing Anna's curious look, Clarke gave the redhead a weak smile. "Council meetings of the Thirteen Clans tend to be pretty stressful, to put it mildly." Clarke smiled sadly as she turned to look at Lexa again. "It takes a strong leader to rule a group of warriors ready to kill each other at the blink of an eye. And Lexa's been doing it for years. It's not fair, but..."

It _never_ would be fair, not to Lexa or to Clarke. But they had no choice other than to bear the burden of leadership for their people. They were capable of doing the job, and things would invariably be worse without the two of them working together.

Clarke was focusing intently on not giving the tears threatening to form in her eyes the satisfaction of her wiping them away, so she was startled when she felt gentle fingers rest lightly on her left shoulder.

"Sorry," Anna said softly. "Didn't mean to spook you." She smiled, and the expression was rich with compassion, so evident and heartfelt that it nearly took Clarke's breath away.

"You know..." Anna said slowly, "the two of you don't _have_ to go back, if things are that bad."

And there it was.

Clarke quickly closed her eyes, too slow to stem the trickle of tears that the movement finally cast into motion.

It had been a hope that she had refused to even think, dared not to grace with the slightest bit of serious consideration, but now it had been said, had been offered freely, and now Clarke was forced to face what she had dreamed about on those rare nights where her sleep had been free of hauntings and nightmares.

As Elsa and Lexa reached the center of the garden, they were witness to Clark momentarily breaking down and crying, her shoulders rocking once, twice, three times as Anna gathered the blonde girl in her arms, hugging her tightly while murmuring apologies to her while Clarke let herself cry.

"Hey, Clarke," Anna said, feeling her own eyes sting at inadvertently upsetting their new friend. "I'm sorry, Clarke," Anna said. "I really am!" She looked up, meeting concerned blue eyes and swirling, stormy green ones. Anna fixed her gaze on Lexa's piercing eyes, knowing that Elsa would be moving to stand with Anna (and feeling Elsa's smooth fingers slide protectively around Anna's upper arms as Elsa moved to embrace Anna did indeed help Anna calm herself slightly).

"I just told her that you two didn't have to go back to your world if you didn't want to," Anna said, feeling terrible that she had upset Clarke so badly, despite not knowing exactly why her words had struck the blonde with such emotional impact.

At once Lexa's stormy eyes shifted inside their field of black paint, widening with surprise before slowly softening. "We... appreciate your offer," Lexa said, reaching up and resting the palm of her right hand between Clarke's shoulder blades. "And as gracious as your offer is, we have responsibilities to our people." Lexa looked down at the stone tiles where they were standing. "We cannot stay," she quietly said, her words tasting like ashes in her mouth.

"We understand," Elsa said patiently, meeting Lexa's gaze as the brunette looked back up. "Many years ago, Anna and I once tried to abdicate this throne, to live only for each other and leave Arendelle behind."

"Yeah, we kinda messed things up," Anna said, trying to keep her voice light.

"A pointed understatement, my heart," said Elsa, rubbing Anna's upper arms lovingly. "Two wars and many deaths later, we learned a bloody lesson from our moment of selfishness."

Lexa nodded, unwilling to join in the joint embrace but her skin crawling to comfort Clarke. Her agony was assuaged when Clarke turned, stepping out of Anna's embrace and into Lexa's, a gesture so reflexive on Lexa's part that she wasn't even aware of her arms moving until Clarke was held securely in them. "We fear much the same happening, the longer we are away," Lexa finally said, hiding the relieved smile that threatened to bloom across her lips in Clarke's blonde hair. "The clan leaders are a proud, violent sort, and the actions of a few of the Sky People threatens the peace between them and the other twelve clans."

Lexa placed a kiss on Clarke's forehead as the blonde looked up at her mate, eyes red and sad but a proud smile upon her face. "Charles Pike and a few assholes aren't going to destroy the peace we've worked so hard to build," Clarke said. "We're not going to let them."

Lexa smiled as she looked into Clarke's red-limned blue irises. "The people believe in Wanheda," she said softly, "but I believe in Clarke even more."

Clarke was totally unprepared for the sudden surge of tears that overtook her, so she just let the emotion sweep her forward and against Lexa's lips, kissing her spouse with a passion tinged with anger and desperation. Neither dark emotion was present because of Lexa, but that didn't keep Clarke from clutching Lexa as tightly as she would to hope in a nightmare, for hope was exactly what Lexa represented to Clarke.

"You give me strength," Clarke whispered against the skin of Lexa's cheek.

Lexa carefully shook her head. "You had tremendous strength long before I met you," she whispered back, her throat tight. "I simply remind you of that fact when you need to hear it."

Anna and Elsa stood patiently, Anna reaching up with her right hand to grasp Elsa's right just above Anna's right shoulder where Elsa stood behind her, letting the two young women have a moment with each other. After all, they understood that all-important need quite well themselves.

"Pardon, Your Majesties," came a male voice from the direction of the nearest entrance to the castle. "Your visitors have arrived. They are waiting for you to receive them in the throne room."

"Excellent, thank you," Elsa said, raising her voice to be heard clearly while turning her head to avoid shouting into Anna's ear. She turned to regard Lexa and Clarke once more.

Lexa stood strong and still, holding Clarke while her _houmon_ gathered herself once more. After a few moments, Clarke opened her eyes and smiled, then she leaned forward and kissed Lexa's lips.

"I think all this magic is making me more emotional," Clarke mumbled.

"It cannot make you any more beautiful," Lexa whispered as she gently stroked a finger across Clarke's cheek.

Clarke smiled and blushed at the same time, unable to form words momentarily, but her blue eyes were more than eloquent enough for Lexa, who returned the smile despite the fearsome design painted on her face.

"Anna and I must receive our new guests in the throne room," Elsa said, stepping to the side and reaching out to take Anna's left hand as it was offered to her.

"Is it your friends?" asked Clarke. "The ones you were expecting?"

"Yes," replied Elsa. "They like things to be done... _properly._ And for official protocols to be followed."

Clarke looked at Lexa, whose mask of stoic indifference was already in place once more, secure beneath the black warpaint. "Do I get to put on my face paint as well?" she asked.

"If you can put it on while we're walking to the throne room!" Anna called out over her shoulder; she and Elsa were already following the path out of the garden.

It just then struck Clarke that both Anna and Elsa were now barefoot. Even with the sun at its highest, it had still been cold enough for Clarke's breath to frost while she painted. She stopped long enough to reach down and press the palm of her right hand to the stone path, shivering at the cold rock leaching the heat from her skin.

The touch of Lexa's hand on her left shoulder made Clarke look up to a concerned-looking brunette staring down at her. "It's nothing," Clarke said quickly, standing and brushing her hand off on her coat. She began walking at a brisk pace, trying to catch up with the blonde and red heads nearing one of the doors into the castle from the gardens. Lexa quickly matched Clarke's pace, letting Clarke enter the castle first before drawing abreast of her while they made their way down the massive main hallway.

"They were barefoot," Clarke said at a whisper; they were still far enough back from Elsa and Anna to converse without being heard, although they were catching up. "I mean out in the garden."

Lexa nodded. She had also noticed that; somewhere between the council meeting she had attended with Elsa, when the Queen had most definitely been wearing shoes that appeared to be made of glass or crystal, and the conversation in the castle gardens, those shoes had seemingly disappeared. "The cold refuses to harm them, it seems," she replied in a low voice.

Further discussion was forestalled by the sight of Elsa and Anna entering an ornate set of double doors, flanked by two guards armed with spears in their hands and swords on their belts. The absence of Lexa's sword at her waist was prominent to the warrior, and even the dagger sheathed inside her long leather coat and the smaller knife in her right boot failed to completely replace her favored weapon's absence.

As they reached the two guards, Lexa and Clarke saw the man and woman continue to hold the doors open for them, obviously waiting for them to enter. After a moment's hesitation, Lexa nodded to them and stepped forward, Clarke right behind her.

Elsa was already seated upon her throne, which appeared to be made entirely of ice, upon a three-stepped stone dais. A second ice throne rested beside it, identical in size and material but slightly different in styling, and Anna was just settling herself into it as Clarke and Lexa entered the room.

Looking around and unsure of where to position herself to avoid causing a scene, Clarke nervously turned to the Arendellan Queens. "Where do we stand?" she hissed, just above a whisper.

Elsa turned to look at them, off to the side and between the thrones and the door through which they had entered. "You're fine right there. This will just take a few moments, then we can dispense with the formalities." She grinned. "You're fine right there. Really."

A sharp bang at the far end of the long throne room made Clarke jerk and Lexa reach for the dagger hidden in her coat. The tall, dark wooden doors swung outward slowly, admitting first two guards armed with long spears who took positions on each side of the wide doorway. Then a uniformed man stepped inside and stopped. After a moment he loudly proclaimed, "To Their Majesties the Summer Queen Anna and the Winter Queen Elsa of Arendelle, presenting the Princess of the Moonglades!"

Clarke couldn't understand what the man had said other than Anna's and Elsa's names, but the entrance of the first visitor kept her from pondering the strange words. The young woman who entered the throne room, striding up the scarlet carpet running the length of the throne room to the dais holding the thrones of the queens, was dressed in an ornate black corset and gown, with dark leather and brass fittings and buckles providing the only sparkles of color. She looked to be similar in age to Anna and Elsa, at least by the standards of appearance, with a pretty face, a bare, slender neck and the exposed tops of her shoulders and upper chest visible to where her dark corset began just above her breasts. She was blonde, with her hair pulled back and held in place with a brass tiara that had an odd shape to it. As the woman drew closer, Clarke saw her eyes slide over to appraise her and Lexa, but the blonde only smiled confidently at them for a moment before returning her attention to the two Queens awaiting her on the dais.

It was the second woman who entered the throne room that drew their attention away from the unusual blonde.

"To Their Majesties the Summer Queen Anna and the Winter Queen Elsa of Arendelle, presenting the Lady of the Moonglades!"

As the tall woman entered the throne room, it was as if the shadows drew themselves out of the far corners of the massive room and thrust their gloomy bodies into the center, in full defiance of the bright sunlight entering through the tall, thin windows of the expansive hall. The shadows seemed to swirl around the towering but slender woman, their ebon shade making the paleness of her sharp-lined face nearly glow in contrast to their embrace. She was dressed a robe of simplest but darkest black, so intense that no wrinkles or lines could be seen as she slowly walked toward the women awaiting her. The silhouette of her cloak drew Clarke's eyes; it seemed to be cut or tailored in a way as to make it appear tattered along its hem, and the flame-like flickering of its dark tongues of fabric could have been mesmerizing, were they not surpassed by the woman's eyes.

It was the intense, burning green of the woman's eyes that pulled Clarke's gaze toward them, a magnetic attraction that left Clarke torn between wanting to kiss the strange woman and wanting to flee from the room entirely. Thinking of Lexa's own brilliant green eyes, Clarke summoned the willpower to look at her lover; she was not surprised when she saw the same uneasiness on Lexa's face, mirroring her own just seconds ago.

Clarke had opened her mouth to convey her reaction to the unusual woman when she noticed a detail so unexpected that her mind had initially ignored the possibility of it being real, but as she looked carefully, there was no doubt.

The woman had two long, dark, spiraling horns rising up from her head.

And as Clarke considered that, the woman's luminescent eyes snapped to look directly at her, stopping Clarke's breath in her chest. The woman flashed a smile full of white teeth that conjured the word _predatory_ from somewhere deep in Clarke's subconscious, and Clarke felt herself reflexively squeezing Lexa's arm more tightly until the woman had looked away, returning her attention to the two monarchs and the blonde woman now standing before them, who had turned to look at the approaching woman.

As the otherworldly woman stopped beside the shorter blonde, the moment slowed to a crawl, before the blonde spoke, her words just as inaudible to Clarke and Lexa as nearly everyone else in this world seemed to be.

"The two of you are always welcome in Arendelle, of course!" replied Anna, her voice possessing its usual cheery tone.

"And thank you both for coming," Elsa added, as she and Anna rose from their thrones and descended the steps to greet the two women, with a polite hug for the blonde and a courteous nod and warm smile for the taller woman. "I fear Arendelle is much in need of your expertise."

The four of them began walking toward Lexa and Clarke, who both remained still. Neither of them was going to flinch or yield, regardless of how odd the tall woman's appearance was or how unnerving her presence felt. They had both faced down their own deaths and their own demons, and now that the initial unease had passed, they stood straighter and refused to flinch or be intimidated.

"Well!" spoke the strange woman, her green eyes piercing as she inspected Clarke and Lexa from head to toe. A broad smile again stretched across her face as she stopped several paces away from the two of them, and the blonde woman stopped as her companion did. "You _do_ keep the most _interesting_ friends, Your Majesties," she purred.

The pale woman turned to look at Elsa and Anna, and Clarke's eyes were immediately drawn to how her horns disappeared beneath her jet-black hair and turned with the rest of her head. And then she realized something quite odd.

"You..." Clarke said, drawing the attention (and the intense gaze) of the tall horned woman once more. "I can understand you!"

"Well, I would certainly hope so," said the woman. "I _am_ speaking quite clearly."

"And you understand us as well?" asked Lexa.

The shorter blonde woman said something, but again neither Clarke or Lexa could understand her.

"Yes, much the same with us," Elsa said. "Anna and I can understand them, and they can understand us, but no one else can communicate with them."

"The cold is understood in all languages, Your Majesties, across all cultures," the tall woman said breezily, as if it were a fact even the youngest child should have known. But then she fixed Lexa and Clarke both with a thin, humorless smile before purring in a lower register, "...as is danger."

Clarke started to mention the magical necklace Arista had used to speak with her earlier, but the horned woman was already saying, "Perhaps a translation spell might be in order." She turned to look at the shorter blonde woman, lifting a hand to reveal long, spidery fingers with short nails; she gently caressed the blonde woman's chin, trailing a lone index finger across the woman's left cheek until it reached her pink lips, where the woman leaned forward and captured the finger, sucking half of it into her mouth in a display of sensuality shocking in its openness and shamelessness.

"Mmmm," murmured the tall woman, eyes fluttering closed as she enjoyed the warmth coursing through her body from the affectionate gesture from her lover. "Ah!" she suddenly uttered, jerking her finger out from between the teeth now on display in the blonde woman's mouth from where she had bitten the tall woman's finger.

The smirk on the blonde's face nearly made Clarke laugh as she began to reconsider which one of the two truly held dominion over the other. Then the blonde said something that made Anna erupt in laughter and Elsa blush before covering her mouth to laugh politely as well.

The horned woman looked vexed for a moment, but then her face softened before she broke into a grin again. "I think you've reminded us all just which one of us is the princess and which one of us is the lady, my dear," she said slyly, only to have the blonde step forward, stand on her tiptoes, grab the taller woman's black cloak and pull her into a deep, passionate kiss. The kiss lasted for several seconds, and when the blonde woman pulled back, she smiled up to the horned woman and gently pressed her right hand against the taller woman's sharp-boned cheek.

The blonde then turned and walked toward Clarke and Lexa. She was saying something in a soft tone, but the words remained lost on them. She stopped just short of the two of them. As this close distance, Clarke was able to scrutinize the metallic boning on the woman's corset; seeing short but sharp-looking thorns protruding from the brass trim and fittings was more than a bit unexpected to her.

The blonde held her hands out in front of her, palms up, as if she were offering them to Clarke. Clarke hesitated for a moment before placing her own left hand atop the blonde's left hand. The blonde smiled and patted Clarke's hand gently. She used her left hand to gently hold Clarke's hand while moving her right hand out to the side. With a brief flourish, she was suddenly holding a brass thorn between her thumb and forefinger.

Very slowly, the blonde held her right hand up so that the thorn was clearly visible to Clarke. Her expression was calm but focused as she looked at Clarke, then at the thorn, then at Clarke again. Without moving the hand holding the sharp thorn, the blonde gently turned Clarke's left hand over and positioned her thumb to lift the tip of Clarke's little finger over the others.

Clarke's breath was nearly ragged, and when she looked over at Lexa, who looked ready to interpose herself between the blonde and Clarke any moment, Clarke knew she had to do something. "I-It's okay, Lexa," Clarke said, her voice stumbling. "I don't think she's trying to hurt me."

Lexa steeled herself to remain perfectly still, despite her muscles burning to step in front of Clarke and protect her. A quick glance at Elsa and Anna showed the two of them remained perfectly relaxed, if curious, as to what was happening.

When the blonde looked back into Clarke's eyes, Clarke understood the look of questioning as the blonde held the metal thorn close to Clarke's finger, not touching it. Clarke swallowed and nodded, trying to wordlessly grant the woman permission to proceed.

The blonde smiled, and with a gentle prick, she had drawn a drop of blood from the tip of Clarke's little finger. The crimson drop swelled slowly, but the woman released Clarke's hand and moved to stand before Lexa. Without hesitation, Lexa lifted her left hand, palm up, and let the blonde take it. The blonde smiled, and with a simple grasp of Lexa's hand and movement of her right hand, a drop of black blood began to blossom on the tip of Lexa's finger as well.

With the only visible reaction to Lexa's blood a lift of the blonde's delicate right eyebrow, the blonde opened her pinched finger and thumb, and the thorn suddenly disappeared, allowing her to take Clarke's left hand with her left and Lexa's proffered hand with her right. She quickly spoke a few words as she clasped their hands, then both Clarke and Lexa felt a swell of warmth wash over them, followed by a tingling they each felt at the back of their throats.

"There!" said the blonde, releasing their hands as she smiled at the two of them. "That should do it."

"An interesting choice of translation spell," spoke the horned woman, and it seemed to Clarke that she could detect evident pride in the woman's words.

"It seemed the most efficient," replied the blonde, her words now quite understandable to Clarke and Lexa both. "Using their own blood to power the spell allowed me to enhance the duration indefinitely, as their bodies will be quite capable of maintaining such negligible drain without them even noticing." She turned to look at Lexa. "Particularly this one," she added. "Although both of them seem quite healthy and lovely."

"Remember to whom you belong," said the horned woman, stepping forward.

The blonde woman laughed, then turned and moved to embrace the taller woman. "As if I could ever forget, silly! You _are_ my True Love, after all." She placed a quick kiss on the dark red lips of the taller woman before she turned her head to regard Clarke and Lexa once more. "And besides that, they're already joined to each other. The bond between them sings in their blood, and it might turn out to be more True than even they realize."

Anna stepped forward. "Lexa, Clarke, these are our friends Briar Rose, Princess of the Moonglades, and Maleficent, Lady of the Moonglades. There are no greater experts on the field of dark magic anywhere in the world."

"Well," spoke Briar Rose as she released Maleficent, "that might be true for Mal, but _I'm_ still learning."

"And Rose, Maleficent, these are our new friends Lexa, leader of the Thirteen Clans, and her wife Clarke, leader of the Sky People. They're from—"

"—Somewhere else entirely," Maleficent said, stepping forward without her body seeming to move. " _Most_ intriguing, I must say." She turned to look at Anna and Elsa again. "And here I thought you were bringing us here to ask us some _boring_ questions about a few murders. It turns out that you've prepared quite the—"

"Maleficent!" Rose said sharply. "Some of their citizens have been killed! We need to address that business first, particularly if there's a dark sorcerer involved like they suspect." Reaching out to take the horned woman's right hand, Rose softened her voice. "I learned patience from you, my love. Along with several other wonderful things." She batted her eyes at Maleficent, then said with a decidedly softer, sultrier voice, "Good things come to those who wait... and bad things come too," ending with a devilish grin for the taller woman.

As Maleficent looked down at the smaller woman, her eyes seemed to glow as the fierce expression on her face gentled. "For you, my dear, I can wait an eternity," she said calmly.

Briar Rose smiled back. "Well, it's a good thing you won't have to wait too long, isn't it? Besides, sometimes waiting for something makes it all the sweeter when your lips close around it, hm?"

A giggle from Anna broke the thick silence and drew everyone's attention. "Sorry," Anna said, sounding nothing of the sort. "Nice one, Rose," she added with a nod to the blonde.

"High praise, coming from you," replied Rose, grinning. "The master of embarrassing your poor love."

"Perhaps it would be most efficient for us to save the foreplay for later, hmm?" said Maleficent, her voice rich and honeyed. "For now it seems we have not just one," she spoke as she turned to look at Lexa and Clarke, "but rather _two_ mysteries to solve."

—O—

 **Author's Afterword:** I'm not entirely sure where I get a subtle bondage/domination vibe from when it comes to Rose/Aurora and Maleficent, but I definitely think one's there. Nothing hurtful or harmful, but more like a control/submission dynamic that makes both of them feel loved, needed, respected and fulfilled by the other. Obviously, Mal would be the domme and Rose the sub.

I also feel it important to clarify both Rose and Maleficent are very much in love and have freely and willingly become partners with each other, since that wasn't made completely clear in this brief introduction to them. They've explored different dynamics during their years with each other (much like Anna and Elsa, Rose ages much more slowly due to her being steeped in magic her whole life), but they're both utterly devoted and faithful to each other, Rose's occasional teasing notwithstanding (it's all to let Maleficent express her significant possessive streak, anyway, which Rose finds both adorable and endearing). As for why Rose is addressed as Briar Rose and not as Aurora, at least for now, I'll clarify that in the next chapter, but I suspect many of you will easily figure it out.

I try not to use Trigedasleng in my chapters for ease of reading, but I had to include _Jusdonosir_ since it's being using as a title. The word roughly translates as "The one who bled for us." Yes, there's definitely a meaning to it that will be further explicated in later chapters, but you've already been given some major clues about it.

I hope this chapter has raised more questions, stimulated some thinking and given us all some more love when we need it the most. Stay strong and don't let hate shut you up or make you duck your head. Now it's more important than ever for us to not only stand up for ourselves, but also to stand up for each other.

See you when the next chapter is up!


	7. Ch 7: Symbolism

**Author's Note:** I hope everyone has had a happy holiday season and an enjoyable holiday (or holidays) of your choice! Time for another chapter in our story.

I hope this chapter can add some happiness to your day, especially if things have been tough lately. Hang in there. You're loved and you deserve to live your own life. Don't ever let anyone convince you otherwise.

Cover Art for the story is from the LexaRecovery tumblr. Stay strong together.

 _I do not own the television show "The 100" or make any claims upon it or its characters. Similarly, I do not own Frozen, its characters or any Disney characters or property. All these characters are used under the concept of Fair Use, and I make no profit or income from using any of them._

 **Our Fight Is Not Over**

by Jo K.

Chapter 7: Symbolism

 _Baby I want scary kisses_

 _I want hits and I want misses_

 _I want hell and I want bliss_

 _And all that stuff between it_

 _And if you give me safety_

 _In a short time I'll be driven crazy_

 _I would rather run and fall_

 _Than take no chance at all._

-Voice of the Beehive, "Scary Kisses"

—O—

"Well," said Briar Rose, hands on her hips as she looked down at the papers carefully arranged on the table between all the women standing in the room. The look on her face wasn't exactly sour, but it certainly wasn't pleasant.

"Well," echoed Maleficent, face stoic, arms folded across her chest as she stood, the edge of her cloak brushing against Rose where her lover stood beside her.

"Well," sighed Elsa, similarly looking down at the sigils drawn on the papers set out before all of them on the table. Her face was sad as she remembered the fate of the family who had been tortured and sacrificed around the runes that had been painted on the snow between them... with their blood. The same runes that had been carefully transcribed on separate sheets of paper, now positioned in not exactly the same orientation they had found at the ritual site, but close enough together to give a good idea of how it would have looked.

"Well, nothing," Anna said, frowning. "Or more accurately, there's nothing _well_ about it. We've not put these things close enough together to really recreate the pattern, and these symbols are _still_ making my eyes water and my head hurt."

Clarke and Lexa looked at each other. Magic was a new phenomenon to them, but there was definitely something about the strange figures and symbols laid out before them on the wooden table that was troubling, not just in a subconscious way but also as a steadily building headache Clarke had developed over the last hour.

Maleficent sighed, and something about her performing such a mundane action seemed out of place to Clarke.

" _Drux's Folio_?" Rose abruptly asked, turning to look at Maleficent.

"The character set is slightly different," replied the horned woman, pointing at some of the sigils.

Rose nodded her head, then returned to examining the markings. "The _Bitter Grimoire_ , then?" she asked, raising her head again.

"Hmmm," Maleficent murmured slowly. "No, I don't think so. This design," she said as she vaguely waved her hand over the papers, "seems too elegant for that wretched waste of papyrus."

Anna looked at Elsa, hoping her sister was as lost in the conversation as she was. Seeing the look of befuddlement on her wife's face, Anna squeezed Elsa's hand comfortingly, shrugging her shoulders silently as Elsa gave her a curious look in return.

"Well, it certainly looks Hyperborean," Rose muttered.

"I agree," Maleficent said warmly, reaching out to pick up one of the papers holding some of the mystic symbols, then lifting it up to examine it more closely. "Perhaps a rogue infernalist, who's studied more than most."

"No," Rose replied, shaking her head slightly. She pointed to one, then another of the symbols still on the table. "The way these runes are laid out, it's not designed to summon something, it's designed to _send_ something."

Maleficent lowered the paper she was holding, then turned to look at Rose. A quizzical look flashed across her face, only to be matched by a cocky smirk from the blonde. A slow lift of Maleficent's left eyebrow countered the sassy look before the tall woman replaced the paper in its original position to peer more closely at the runes Rose had indicated. "Well, well, well," she purred before standing upright again. Carefully she turned to look at her partner. "A portal spell," she finally said. "Between _worlds."_

Everyone looked briefly at Clarke and Lexa, who had no idea what to do, so Lexa just stood perfectly still, while Clarke smiled awkwardly.

"Worlds?" asked Rose, uncertainly.

Maleficent nodded. "Worlds." She indicated Lexa and Clarke with a sweep of her left hand.

Rose's right hand went to her chin, index finger tapping against her lips. "Not many works capable of that kind of power," she said, as much to herself as to anyone else. "At least not ones that are unaccounted for..."

Suddenly her eyes lit up and she snapped her fingers. "The _Vile Codex!"_

A smile bloomed to life across Maleficent's ruby lips. "I concur," she said warmly. "I was wondering when it would show up again."

"I've been wanting to kill whomever it was that stole that book for _years_ now," Rose said, her smile growing wider, if crueler, as she clapped her hands together cheerily.

Seeing Anna and Elsa both giving her a curious look, Rose turned to regard them. "Oh, don't give me that look!" she said, half-teasingly. "You would not _believe_ what I had to go through because of that thief!"

"It was a most unpleasant situation, to be sure," Maleficent said calmly, walking to a different table nearby to pour herself a cup of hot tea.

Rose laughed, a sharp, bitter laugh. "Unpleasant, my eyes!" she said. "I had to burn that particular dress because I couldn't get all the faerie blood and gore out of it, even with magic!"

Maleficent returned to the table, rejoining the group of women standing around it as she sipped her tea. "It really was quite the mess," she said calmly. "My poor Briar Rose had the worst of it, unfortunately."

Rose smiled as Maleficent held out the cup of tea to her; she smoothly took the cup from Maleficent's hand into both of her own. "Thank you, Mal," Rose said softly, offering her a quick wink as well as she carefully tested the tea's temperature before taking a sip of her own.

"The book's true name is not spoken by those few who know of it," Maleficent spoke. "Names have power, after all, and there are some entities that no one wants to accidentally call home for supper. For many years, the book commonly referred to as the _Vile Codex_ was kept locked away in the center of a settlement of good faeries, kept in a prison of earth that had to be replenished regularly due to the book's corrupting nature."

"Why would good faeries keep such an item?" asked Elsa, with Anna nodding in agreement to the question.

"Precisely because they would be among the least likely to ever use it," Maleficent replied calmly. "Multiple attempts have been made to destroy the Vile Codex over the centuries, but none have ever succeeded. Lore regarding the Codex claims that the book can only be destroyed by its antithesis, its polar opposite, but no one has ever been able to determine what that might be."

"And since no one has been able to destroy it, it had to be contained," Rose said as she handed the cup of tea back to Maleficent. "Faeries are much more resistant to corruption than humans, and good faeries are inherently opposed to dark magic, so they made the perfect guardians for such a dangerous object."

There was a short pause before Clarke spoke. "So... if they were the perfect guardians, how did someone steal it?"

Rose sighed, and for a moment she looked noticeably more weary that her youthful features belied. "Someone managed to slip a barrel of gunpowder inside a large crate full of iron filings into the good faerie village, then blow it up."

Elsa reflexively covered her mouth with her hand to cover her gasp, while Anna's mouth fell open.

"Jesus," Clarke muttered, blinking her eyes.

Even Lexa looked taken aback at that assessment.

"Yeah," Rose said, a sad smile now gracing her face. "Most of the ones the explosion didn't kill outright, the iron fragments tore through, killing them either quickly from wounds or bleeding to death or slowly from iron poisoning. And the few who escaped both the blast and the shrapnel succumbed to breathing in the iron dust left hanging in the air, searing their lungs from the inside."

Rose sighed. "And seeing as how between Mal and me I'm the only one who can touch iron and _not_ have it burn me, you can figure out who had to pick her way through the mess and try to piece together—literally, in this case—what happened."

Rose pulled out a chair and sat down. As she did so, Maleficent moved to stand behind the blonde, rubbing her shoulders while being careful to not prick her hands or fingers on the metal thorns protruding from the accents and piping on Rose's corset, tiara and hair pins. "Had to wash my hair _four times_ in that freezing creek beside the village to get all the iron dust out of it, so Mal could touch me again," Rose said, her voice wavering between annoyed and numb. "The blood and guts washed off me pretty fast, but I just burned the dress right there. There was no way it was ever going to be clean again."

Rose paused, remembering the carnage as well as the emotional turmoil that had proved even harder to wash away than the damned iron dust. "It was—" Rose began, only to stop short as her jaw trembled once. "It was pretty fucking horrible."

She looked up, meeting first Anna's, then Elsa's eyes. "I had met most of them, you know?" Rose said as tears began to dribble down her cheeks. "The faeries, I mean. Most of them had come to the ceremony where Mal installed me as ruler of the Moonglades, and—"

"I _still_ don't know why you two won't just call it a wedding," said Anna, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "I mean, we all know that's what it was, pretty much."

"They're entitled to express their love any way they choose, Anna," Elsa said, not exactly chiding Anna but the tone in her voice hinting at a bit of that.

"A wedding would have... complicated the situation with Rose's former kingdom even more so than it currently remains," Maleficent finally said.

"I have absolutely no desire to ever return to that wretched shithole of a country," Rose hissed, her right hand clenching into a fist. "Even _Aurora_ doesn't want to go back there!" Rose paused before continuing. "I mean, it _was_ her that they pretty much just threw out like the trash!"

Rose looked up at Elsa. "You know what it's like to have your parents lock you away, Elsa. Spirits, you had it worse than Aurora and I did! You actually knew what you were missing." She wiped the tears away from her face before looking at Anna and smiling. _"Who_ you were missing," she said more softly. "I was just treated like a fool and lied to for what had been my entire life." She reached up with her right hand, palm upward, and held it there until long fingers with sharp black nails interlaced themselves with Rose's splayed fingers. "I had been thrown away, banished by people who claimed to love Aurora, but that isn't how you treat someone you love! Spirits, being cursed was the _best_ thing that ever happened to us in our lives up to that point."

"Oh, Rose," Anna said, reaching out and taking Rose's free left hand. "Are things still that bad between you and your birth family?"

"They're not _my_ family," Rose snapped, her face suddenly angry, but she didn't pull away from Anna's touch.

"Right, my mistake," Anna said, nodding. "Sorry. I meant to ask, are things still that bad between you and _Aurora's_ birth family."

"Thank you," Rose replied, a bit stiffly. "And yes, they are. I'll never forgive their betraying poor Aurora again, casting us out a second time over our love for Maleficent! You'd think they would have learned after how things turned out the first time! I warned Aurora not to trust them again, but she was too naïve for our own good."

"But I thought they had made offers of welcoming you back recently," Elsa asked, sitting down beside Anna.

The cold hatred that smoldered in Rose's eyes was evident to both Anna and Elsa. "I'll never be able to trust them, and now Aurora knows that she can never trust them too," she said firmly. "Just as that bastard father of Aurora's betrayed my dear dark lady, his people betrayed Aurora and me as well, putting an outsider on the throne instead of their 'beloved princess'."

Abruptly Rose turned her head to look over her shoulder at Maleficent. "Do you think that Philip might have ordered the Codex stolen?" she asked. "He certainly bears quite the grudge against Aurora and me both."

Maleficent laughed once, sharply, and its derisive tone was entirely clear. "Had that been the case, then Philip would have managed to curse himself and his treacherous kingdom into oblivion, damnation or both within the first week."

Rose looked up at Maleficent for long seconds, her blue eyes seeming to dance in place before a wide, open smile grew on her lips. "Thank you, Maleficent," she spoke in a voice softer, more hesitant than usual.

As Clarke watched, she saw the blonde princess's shoulders lift slightly, her head tilt disappear. The sly intelligence in the woman's blonde eyes seemed to shift as Clarke watched with intense curiosity, Rose's eyes rapidly becoming more expressive, more openly emotional as they beamed up at Maleficent.

"You are most welcome, my sweet Aurora," Maleficent spoke softly, bending down to tenderly kiss the blonde princess's lips. The action was met with the tiniest bit of hesitation on the blonde's part before she kissed back, allowing Maleficent to deepen the kiss before politely pulling back.

"I shall never grow used to that, I should hope," Aurora said, smiling brightly.

"Nor shall I," Maleficent replied, smiling back.

A light giggle escaped the blonde's lips, followed by a coy smile, which itself was followed by another quick kiss on Maleficent's lips. "I suppose we should get back to the quite serious matter at hand, shouldn't we?" Aurora said, not entirely teasing in tone.

"Probably so," agreed Maleficent, her gaze meeting the warm understanding of Elsa and Anna, then the inquisitive but friendly expression on the faces of Clarke and Lexa as she scanned the room. "I should like to finish analyzing these runes in time for whatever delicious repast our hosts have planned for us," she said, carefully keeping all but the barest hint of a smile off her face as she leaned over the papers on the table once again.

—O—

Three hours later, as the six of them made their way down the wide, elegant hallway toward the main dining room, Lexa noted the presence of two uniformed castle guards outside the doors, a change from the previous two days. The appearance of the blonde twins Elin and Erin, wearing matching gowns of shimmering pale blue, escorting their younger sister Kari, who was mostly wearing a purple dress that appeared to be missing the left sleeve, was also a departure from the dining plans, as it had normally been just them and Elsa and Anna, with Kari there some meals but not all, while the twins had only been glimpsed on and off since their emotional talk with Lexa and Clarke in the courtyard that first night.

"Is it a special occasion tonight?" Lexa asked, stopping several paces short of the door to the dining hall and the guards flanking the portal.

"It is," Elsa said, her own smile as demure as Anna's was obvious. She extended her left hand, first in the direction of Lexa and Clarke, then sweeping toward Rose and Maleficent as well. "We have the leaders of three different nations dining together tonight," she said pleasantly. "Four, if we count the Sky People as a separate people."

"Yeah, leave it to Skaikru to be pains in the ass," Clarke said, getting a smirk and soft cough from Lexa. "Some days, they behave."

"Not so much, recently," Lexa offered, showing Clarke enough of a smile to indicate she meant no insult by the remark.

"You've got me there, babe," Clarke said, grinning as she patted Lexa's left upper arm. "First thing on my list for when we get back home."

Anna nearly skipped the few steps ahead, stopping and turning as she reached the guards, who lifted their spears in salute. " _Wanheda_ Clarke, _Heda_ Lexa," she said, smiling brightly, "welcome to your first formal State Dinner here in Arendelle!"

—O—

Late that night, as the chill wind blew heavy flakes of snow across the small sitting area atop part of the castle, Elsa sat and watched the aurora borealis as it danced high above the North Mountain, its thick, sinuous ribbons an electric green and bright white tonight. She sipped her hot tea, protected from cooling or freezing by her magic and the cold itself, while she enjoyed the beautiful view through the steady snowfall.

"Such a singular beauty found in Arendelle," spoke a calm, strong voice behind her.

Elsa smiled. "Pull up a chair," she said, not turning around as she heard Maleficent's cloak flap and flutter in the wind. "And yes, it's a marvelous sight to see."

"It is indeed," Maleficent said quietly as she took a seat beside Elsa, a wave of her hand and a slight pulse of magic blowing the snow off of the heavy wooden chair before she took her seat. She watched the heavenly display in the sky above them for several minutes, taking a drink of the peach, apple and pear drink she secretly indulged in whenever she and Briar Rose came to Arendelle; she had never asked Elsa or Anna for the recipe, because she enjoyed associating the beverage with seeing their friends, and having the friendship of two who knew and accepted her as she truly was would always be sweeter than any mere food or drink.

"What are you and Anna going to do with the two refugees from another world?" Maleficent asked, her voice calm but her words eager with curiosity.

Elsa sighed, then she carefully placed her tea on the small table beside her, mentally reminding the cold not to freeze her tea. "Their world is... harsh."

"Mmm," Maleficent murmured softly. She had listened to the stories to the otherworlders had told, and a surreptitiously cast truth spell had proven to her the validity of what they had said. "To think that level of cataclysm is even possible is quite unsettling."

Elsa nodded, taking another drink of her hot tea. "We offered to let them stay," she finally said. "They politely declined... but I think they considered it."

"They are the leaders of their people. They feel a responsibility to them." The faerie's bright green eyes turned to meet Elsa's intense blue. "Something you know all about, Your Majesty," she spoke, with a hint of teasing in her tone.

Elsa laughed and shifted her legs, moving from having them crossed to fold them beneath her where she sat in the dark wooden chair. "Well-struck, my friend," Elsa said, shaking her head.

The two women sat quietly for several minutes, a yin to the other's yang in appearance, with Elsa's platinum hair and silver dress contrasted to Maleficent's long, loose ebon hair and black robes, one seeming to become one with the falling snow with the other providing an intense contrast to it.

"Have you and Anna told anyone?" Maleficent finally spoke, her voice uncharacteristically soft but the tone to her words making it clear that they were no longer talking about the visitors from a different world.

Elsa smiled more widely as she turned to meet Maleficent's smug look. "Not yet," Elsa said, giving her friend a not-really-stern look. "Should have known we couldn't hide it from you."

"Then Rose and I shall keep your confidence as well."

"Thank you," Elsa said. "How _are_ Rose and Aurora doing?"

"Better," Maleficent said with a nod as she took another sip of her sweet drink, savoring the tartness and the sweetness, her own magic keeping her warm and her drink chilled without freezing. "There haven't been any conflicts between the two for quite some time now."

"That _is_ good," Elsa said softly, looking to her friend and getting a gentle smile in return. "I know you can't help but worry. She's the woman you love, after all."

Maleficent took another drink, then she returned her eyes to the sweeping light show above them. "Sometimes it's incredibly frustrating," the tall woman spoke slowly. "To have the power I wield, the knowledge I possess, yet be utterly impotent when it comes to helping the woman I love. Particularly when much of the harm she has suffered came from my own deeds."

"I know the feeling," Elsa said, patting Maleficent's knee once before withdrawing her hand. "Believe me, I know."

Maleficent nodded, the expression on her face unreadable for a moment before it relaxed. "I know you do," she said. "In fact, you're most likely the only person who _could_ know how terrible that feeling is."

Elsa nodded and looked back toward the mountain stretching into the clouds above them. "It's like dying on the inside," she said quietly. "Like seeing all your hopes, your dreams, your love, your joy, just shatter before your eyes."

"And the fact that it was a mistake of one's own making only makes the pain that much worse." Maleficent closed her eyes, and immediately it was as if she was back in that tiny cottage buried deep in the forest, hurling wave after verdant wave of magic against the curse she had laid upon an infant many years ago, only to have her mightiest attempts at negating said curse deflected effortlessly, all while Briar Rose slept, unaware of the mystical upheaval and emotional strife surrounding her.

"It's not all your fault, Maleficent," Elsa said, turning to look at the fearsome woman, who didn't look quite as fierce as usual despite her long horns, drinking her fruity drink and leaning back into the dark wooden chair as if on a wintery holiday. "It wasn't your curse that damaged Rose's mind. I'm sure of it."

Maleficent shook her head slowly. "Whether my curse was the direct cause, it was Aurora being cursed that set all other events in motion."

"Then if that's the case," Elsa replied quickly, turning to look at Maleficent again, "we can say it's all Stefan's fault, because the atrocity he committed upon _you_ led to you cursing Aurora!"

It grew quiet, with only the soft sound of the rolling tides far below them for a few minutes.

"She deserves better than me."

Elsa sighed. "Maleficent..."

"She should be somewhere back at the Moonglades, in our moors, allowing her poor mind to heal, not chasing after monsters and nightmares with me!"

Elsa leaned over toward Maleficent, gently taking Maleficent's glass and placing it on a small column of ice that silently rose up between them. "Maleficent," she said quietly but firmly. "Her place is with _you_ , my friend. She knows that. Both Rose and Aurora know that. And it's your love that _is_ healing her mind."

Maleficent's burning green stare abruptly twisted away from Elsa's eyes, fixing stubbornly upon the northern lights again.

"The change might not be as obvious to you because you're with her all the time, but it was clear as the sun reflecting off the snow to Anna and me. Rose is less angry and confrontational. Aurora is more confident, more comfortable. The two parts of her personality are working together." Elsa squeezed Maleficent's left hand once, gently. "They're not switching off as much, because they don't need to."

Elsa smiled. "Can't you see, Maleficent? It's your love for her and her love for you that's healing what was broken by her parents' selfishness and cruelty."

When Maleficent turned back to Elsa, her intense green eyes were glistening, though no tears fell. "You _would_ know something about that as well, wouldn't you?" the tall faerie said, a sad smile curving her pink lips. "We do share the most unfortunate experiences."

Elsa smiled back, her own blue eyes nearly luminous in their intensity at the moment. "And, likewise, we have overcome them," she said calmly. "True Love is the most powerful magic of all, no matter what form it takes." She reached out and took Maleficent's hand again, and the faerie offered no resistance to one of the three people who walked this planet whom she would allow to touch her in such a friendly manner. "I'm incredibly glad that it found you, my friend."

—O—

Several floors below inside the castle, a warm fire crackled and popped inside the largest fireplace in the castle's game room. Clarke sat on a leather couch, her legs tucked beneath her as she leaned back against Lexa, who sat reading a book on alpine military tactics. Her left hand traced and sketched with a thin charcoal as she watched Anna, sitting in an oversized chair a little farther away from the fire while Kari snoozed in her lap. The young girl was curled up, her head against Anna's chest as she slept and her mother carefully played with her short coppery hair, a near-perfect match for Anna's in hue if not length.

When she felt Lexa's arm tighten slightly around her, Clarke lifted her head to look up at Lexa; she met bright green eyes looked back at her and a smile on the brunette's face that made her look impossibly young and innocent.

 _None of us are innocent,_ Clarke thought. _But maybe, just maybe, we can appreciate moments like these, where we can forget all the horror and pain and loss that we've experienced... and perpetrated on others._

"It feels odd, doesn't it?" Lexa spoke softly, nearly at a whisper, as she herself turned to look behind the couch she and Clarke currently occupied; across the spacious room, the blonde Briar Rose was speaking with the twins Erin and Elin, Rose's hands gesticulating as a swirl of colorful magic vibrated in the air between her and the two young adolescents, who were eagerly listening to the blonde and learning as much as their excitement would allow them.

"Mmm, you're going to have to be more specific, Lexa," Clarke replied in a voice just slightly louder as she leaned further back into Lexa's solid warmth. "Eating the most amazing meal we've ever had in our lives? Being treated with respect without having to beat it out of people? Not having people actively trying to kill us? Watching people use magic as if it's no big deal? Seeing children who actually have a chance to grow up peacefully, without having to choose between killing or being killed?"

Lexa grinned, closing her eyes as she allowed herself to enjoy this unusual sensation of comfort and ease. "I suppose all of those," she finally said.

"Elin and Erin didn't have that chance for long," Anna said quietly, drawing Lexa's and Clarke's attention back to the Summer Queen's face. "When they were just four, they and their cousin Edgar were the targets of a kidnapping plot in a neighboring kingdom."

Seeing that she had their attention and after checking that Kari hadn't woken up due to her mother speaking, Anna continued. "It was an attempt to force our cousin Rapunzel to step down as Queen of the nation of Corona. She was imposing new limitations on the noble houses and expanding the rights of the rest of Corona's citizens, and, as you can guess, the nobility wasn't very happy about those plans."

"I imagine not," Lexa said as she took in the sight of Anna, relaxing and holding her youngest daughter. For a moment she allowed herself to think about a child. It was forbidden for _Heda_ to have children—but then it had also been forbidden for _Heda_ to marry as well. How would Clarke feel about possibly adopting a child one day, should they survive that long?

"What happened?" asked Clarke, bringing Lexa's thoughts away from impossible dreams.

"The attackers killed the guards protecting the children, despite losing most of their numbers in the process." Anna sighed, giving a glance across the room to her oldest children before returning her attention to Lexa and Clarke. "So Elin and Erin created a magical storm in the room," she said quietly. "They buried their cousin and the surviving guard under as many blankets as they could, and they unleashed the most powerful storm their little bodies could at the time."

Anna took a drink of water, then replaced the glass on the nightstand beside her chair. "The storm grew out of control quickly. The cold wouldn't hurt El and Er, but it took them some time to stop it. When it was over, all of the attackers had been killed. Frozen solid."

"At age four," Clarke said, as much a question as a statement. She wasn't sure if she should be proud or horrified, and she knew that uncertainty by itself would haunt her for quite some time.

Anna nodded. "Their cousin and his guard were saved, thanks to them thinking ahead. But it obviously bothered Elin and Erin, having to do something so terrible while still so young."

"It speaks well of their character, though," Lexa said, drawing a curious look from Anna. "That they understood the sacrifice they were making, emotionally, but they were still willing to take such action to protect others."

Anna nodded, surprising Clarke. "Yeah, they're like that," she said, the smile on her face tinged with a touch of sadness. "Kind of like sneaking out of their bed at night to fly off into a blizzard and rescue two strange women."

—O—

In another world, Harper was entirely ready to peel off her dark blue guard uniform and either fall into her sleeping bag or the lagoon beside her and Zoe Monroe's tent. She had finished working her regular shift, then had worked another four hours in training with one of the senior guards. Her suggestion to Chancellor Pike about reformulating the guard teams into pairs made up of one senior guard and one of the the 100 had been implemented, and despite the initial grumbling from both sides, it was already obvious that each group stood to learn quite a bit from the other.

It was only when she registered the presence of the small gathering of Grounders just inside the margins of the nearby forest that she came to an abrupt halt.

As if Harper's motion had fled her and gone into them, the Grounders silently rose from their seated positions and began to walk across the large meadow toward the tent where Monroe already sat, watching their patient approach.

"How long have they been there?" asked Harper as she turned to look at her partner.

"Some of them, I'd guess a little less than an hour," Monroe replied. "Others, almost the whole day."

"And they've just been sitting there? Waiting?"

"Yeah."

Harper frowned. This was the third day in a row Grounders had visited the tent she and Monroe now called home, and each day there were more.

First it was just the teenage girl who had brought them food, a hunting knife that appeared to be newly made, and a curious little multi-tool that had screwdrivers, can and bottle openers, knife blades and a tiny pair of shears folded up inside it. Monroe had discovered last night that it even unfolded into a small but functional set of pliers, despite it being small enough to easily fit in the palm of a hand.

Yesterday it had been a group of four Grounders, what looked like a family, with a father and mother that appeared to be in their late twenties or early thirties and two children not yet in their teens. They had brought more food, two books which were old but appeared to be in reasonably good condition, and a woven blanket. None of them had said anything, but there were tears in the eyes of the father and mother as they had placed their gifts on the ground, knelt briefly, then turned and left quietly, disappearing back into the forest like all the Grounders seemed to do.

"Hey, Harp?"

Harper turned to look at her lover. "Yeah, babe?"

Monroe looked a bit uncomfortable, but she forced herself to ask the question anyway. "You're not..." She trailed off, then tried again. "What _exactly_... did you do inside that place?"

Despite not consciously thinking of that place for days, Harper felt her eyes instantly sting and begin to water. "You... you know what I did, Zoe," she said, her pained voice just above a whisper. "What I went through." _I gave so much blood and bone marrow that I thought I'd die._ She closed her eyes; lying to herself wasn't going to make things any easier, or any better.

 _I gave so much blood and bone marrow because I_ wanted _to die_. _I let them torture me, to stab and cut and bleed me because I thought I deserved to die. Because I was useless at everything else, both on the Ark and on the ground. At least by letting those bastards drain my body dry, I could keep my friends safe for as long as I could stay alive._

"Hey."

The gentle voice and the touch of Monroe's fingers brushing against her left hand yanked Harper out of her dark memories. Harper sniffed loudly, then she wiped her sleeve across her nose. "Sorry," she said guiltily.

"We've both been in bad places," Monroe said, cheering internally when Harper turned her head to make eye contact with her. "But yours was through no fault of your own." Monroe swallowed; even after all they had suffered— _especially_ after all they had suffered—it was still hard for her to say it.

"I... I love you, Harp."

But that only made it sweeter to Harper's ears every time she heard it.

"I love you too, hot stuff," Harper said, bending over and kissing Monroe on her lips before she turned and sat down beside her with a sigh.

"How did the Council meeting go today?"

Harper quietly shook her head. "He's getting worse," she finally said, her voice deliberately low. "If he wasn't unstable before, he definitely is now."

"God," Monroe groaned. "Bellamy 2.0."

Harper nodded. "You have no idea," she whispered.

" _The Grounders remain a threat!"_

" _Charles, they've not come any closer," Abby Griffin said sharply. She turned to David Miller. "Have they?"_

" _No," David replied. "They're holding position between two and three kilometers away from Arkadia. They've made no signs of buildup of their forces any more than what's already present."_

" _But they're arranged differently this time," added Hannah Green, seated beside Pike, as always seemed to be the case lately. "Two separate units, a larger one closer to us, with a smaller secondary unit half a kilometer away."_

 _Marcus Kane smiled darkly as he glared at Pike. "Good strategic positioning, if you don't want your entire unit to be annihilated in a surprise attack," he said coldly. "I wonder why they might be expecting something like that?"_

 _Charles Pike returned Kane's icy stare. "Your sarcasm is not helping matters, Marcus," he said angrily._

" _Nor is your warmongering!" Kane shot back, leaning forward over the meeting table. "Clarke made peace with the Grounders, Charles!"_

" _A peace they have no plans of honoring!" Hannah retorted hotly. "They don't believe in laws and treaties."_

 _Pike leaned forward himself. "They will attack us again, Marcus. Unless we eliminate them first." He took a moment to calm himself down, then he leaned back against the seat. "And we will eliminate them first."_

" _You have no idea just how well-developed their civilization is, Charles," Kane replied. "Abby and I do. We've seen their capitol. We've seen their defenses, and the number of warriors they can bring to war."_

" _You've seen exactly what they wanted you to see," Pike said flatly._

 _A hesitantly raised hand forestalled the argument._

" _What is it, Harper?" Pike said, a hint of irritation in his voice._

" _Chancellor, sir..." Harper began. "Monroe and I see Grounders most days, out where we live." She was trying_ _to not appear as nervous as she felt, but she was afraid she was doing a shitty job of it. "We live pretty far out from the rest of Arkadia, but they've never shown any aggression or threatening behavior toward us."_

 _The cold glare that Pike directed at her made the sweat trickling down Harper's back feel even more uncomfortable. "What's your point, Harper?" he said testily._

 _She swallowed, looking to Kane, then to Abby for reassurance before she turned her gaze back to Pike. "Sir, Clarke Griffin GETS SHIT DONE," she said, projecting as much confidence in her voice as possible._

 _Ignoring the faint giggles and whispers that popped up around the Council room, Harper continued. "She beat the Grounders when they attacked the 100's camp the first time. She escaped from Mount Weather and negotiated the first peace treaty with the Grounders, risking her own life to do so. She came back and helped lead the attack on Mount Weather—"_

" _Until the Grounders turned traitor to save their own," Pike interjected._

"— _But even_ then _she pressed the attack, and she rescued all of us while killing those vampires!"_

 _Pike looked entirely nonplussed as he stared at her. "What's your point, Councillor?" he asked, placing just enough emphasis on the title to remind Harper that she was the youngest and newest member on the Council._

" _Clarke made a real peace treaty with the Grounders," Harper said, finding more confidence as she spoke. "She had us accepted into their fucking_ government _, on equal footing with the rest of their people! Abby Griffin and Marcus Kane went to their capitol and formalized the peace agreement! How can we throw that away, and risk putting us right back at war with them all over again?" When no answer was immediately forthcoming, she added, "We got lucky that their Commander didn't ride her whole army down here and burn this place to the ground after that sneak attack killed the three hundred Grounders she and Clarke had sent here to protect us!"_

 _The loud bang of Pike's fist striking the metal table reverberated throughout the meeting room. "They were not here to 'protect' us! They were here to_ murder us in our sleep!"

" _Funny," Harper shot back before she could think better of it, "because that's exactly what_ we _did to_ them _."_

 _She knew she had made a mistake when a nauseating chill seemed to fall over the entire room. Pike glared at her for long seconds, and Harper found it hard to draw enough oxygen into her lungs under that angry gaze._

" _I'd think you should be most careful of all of us here, Harper," Pike finally said, his words clearly enunciated, his tone clinically cold. "After all, you and your girlfriend Monroe live outside of Arkadia's walls, far away from the protection of the guards."_

 _Harper felt her entire body shiver as she tried to process the implied threat to her and the woman she loved._

 _Pike smiled as he saw the girl turn pale. "And if the Grounders ever_ were _to find out that Monroe was one of the attackers who carried out that killing of three hundred of their kind?" he asked._

 _Harper swallowed, because if she didn't she knew she was going to throw up._ This is not happening. This is not happening.

 _When Pike showed his teeth, it only made his smile that much more threatening. "I wonder how peaceful they'd be then," he finished._

Harper shook her head once, closing her eyes to wipe away the memory of the Council meeting last night. She turned and leaned against Monroe, running her fingers through the short red hair to gently hold her girlfriend's head in place as she kissed her, long and slow.

"What was that for?" Monroe asked quietly when they pulled apart slightly, her lips opening and closing slightly as she savored the feel of Harper's lips against hers.

Harper smiled. "Because I love you," she said, honestly. "Because bad shit happens all the time down here. Because every day could be the last day we have, for any of us." She kissed Monroe again, then again. "Because I love you, Zoe Monroe, and I'm going to be with you every day for the rest of our lives."

They looked away from each other as the group of roughly eight Grounders drew closer and closer. Three of them were children, the others adults, and each of them carried something as they approached.

"I still say they think you're a goddess," Monroe said, smiling despite Harper not looking at her currently. "Or maybe they just appreciate listening to you while we have sex."

"Shut up!" Harper said, laughing as she playfully pushed Monroe away. It did nothing to keep her face from turning bright red, though.

Monroe grinned as she shifted to lie down, resting her head in Harper's lap as she resumed watching the Grounders walking toward them. "Maybe we should cook for them or something."

Harper rolled her eyes. "God," she groaned.

—O—

The knocking on the door to their chambers roused Elsa from her sleep. "Yes?" she called out as she wiggled her way out of the grasp of Anna's arms and legs.

"All is right in Arendelle, but I have urgent news, Your Majesty."

Hearing Hilde's voice speaking those words instantly had Elsa out of bed, creating a shimmering blue robe around herself as she hurried to the door. She heard Anna starting to wake behind her, and a wave of her left hand over her shoulder created a matching blue robe for Anna on the bed beside her. "What is it, Hilde?" Elsa asked, dissolving the wall of ice encasing the double doors that led out to the main hall.

As Elsa opened the door, she could see Hilde's eyes looking at her intensely. "There's been another attack," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "And it's much, much worse this time."

—O—

 **Author's Afterword:** I completely and utterly love the idea of Elsa and Maleficent being tea pals and having a girls' night from time to time, just letting their hair down (and horns out, in Mal's case) and chatting as friends and equals. I make no apologies for that.

I've also tried to not go too far overboard with Rose/Aurora's psychological issues. Far too often multiple personalities and schizophrenia are misrepresented or improperly used in place of each other in literature, film and television, and I want to avoid that at all costs. I'm also not going to use it for cheap drama or make it more of an issue than it needs to be. However, having your entire view of the world, your family and yourself abruptly ripped away causes damage, and witnessing Stefan's cruelty and Maleficent's near-death further traumatized Rose/Aurora. Her mind dealt with it through aggressive dissociation, but with time, love and patience, her psyche is slowly recovering.

Next chapter we finally get to see our women in action again, then after that it'll be time for Elsa and Anna to visit the world of the 100!


	8. Chapter 8: Unpleasant Surprises

**Author's Note:** Well, it took a bit longer that I'd hoped to get this chapter done, but it's here now! I choose to blame flu season and a vacation for the lengthy delay, though the two thankfully only had minimal coincidence. On the bright side, this is a longer chapter than usual.

If this is the first chapter of this story you've read, you might want to take a moment to read the previous chapter. Otherwise Rose and Aurora might confuse you a bit.

Hope you enjoy!

Cover Art for the story is from the LexaRecovery tumblr. Stay strong together.

 _I do not own the television show "The 100" or make any claims upon it or its characters. Similarly, I do not own Frozen, its characters or any Disney characters or property. All these characters are used under the concept of Fair Use, and I make no profit or income from using any of them._

 **Our Fight Is Not Over**

by Jo K.

Chapter 8: Unpleasant Surprises

 _Somewhere outside that finish line_

 _I square up and break the chains_

 _I hit like a raging bull_

 _Anointed by the blood I take the reins_

 _Cut from the cloth_

 _Of a flag that bears the name Battle-Born_

 _They'll call me a contender_

 _They'll listen for the bell_

 _With my face flashing crimson from the fires of hell_

 _What are you afraid of_

 _And what are you made of?_

-The Killers, "Flesh and Bone"

—O—

"Holy shit, Lexa!" Clarke said, her arms wrapped tightly around Lexa's waist as if that grip on her wife was the only thing keeping her from falling out of the sky. (Again.)

Lexa smiled, trying to not laugh aloud at hearing that phrase for about the twentieth time since they had started their flight.

Clarke's head continued to swivel from side to side, trying to peer through the clouds to catch glimpses of the snowy ground far below them. "Fuck!" Clarke swore, happy and terrified all at once. She leaned forward, trying to reach the open front of the large hood of Lexa's coat. "How are you not totally bouncing up and down?!" Clarke asked excitedly. "We're flying! On a _dragon!"_

Lexa turned in the seat, shaped like a saddle but large enough for both her and Clarke to sit on it, Lexa in front of Clarke with her wife tightly snuggled against Lexa's back. Several blankets had been spread over the icy seat to shield their legs from the cold of the ice dragon's body before they had left Arendelle Castle. Ahead of them were Elsa and Anna, on a very similar seat, its crystalline form glistening a pale blue-white in the early morning light. Below them the massive body of the creature that had introduced itself as Icescale, through a brief but oddly polite telepathic conversation, stretched out forward and back as well as side to side through its enormous wings, each large enough to cover a house easily. Hearing its voice deep inside her mind hadn't startled Lexa as much as it had Clarke, as to the brunette the process hadn't felt that different from communing with the Hedas of the past.

"Truth be told, my _houmon_ ," Lexa said, turning her head and raising her voice to be heard over the rushing wind, "I'm not saying much because I'm not sure exactly how to... _process_ this." She smiled, proud that she had used the word correctly, but then the smile fell away as she caught sight of the large, ebony-feathered wings beating beside them, as Maleficent flew under her own power, holding Briar Rose in her arms. "Or that," she added.

"Hey, at least we're not going to freeze to death, right?" asked Clarke.

"Yes, _that_ is a most welcome change," agreed Lexa. Before they had climbed aboard the dragon, Elsa had enchanted them with her magic to grant them resistance to the bitter cold, so they could survive the flight to the site of the latest atrocity as well as prolonged exposure to the quite-lethal-on-its-own-thank-you arctic temperature of Northern Arendelle.

("The cold took several of your people, and it came close to taking both of you as well," Elsa had said as the white sparkles danced from her fingertips while she weaved her enchantment over the two other-worlders. "Consider this its apology.")

A slight tilt downward drew both Lexa's and Clarke's attention ahead of them once more, where the thick neck of the ice dragon carrying them had turned toward its right as it began to descend.

They had already visited a small village a few miles south; the entire settlement had been wiped clean of inhabitants, with the humans all gone and the remaining animals slaughtered. Houses had been torched, with the damage already extensive by the time Elsa's ice magic had extinguished the flames that were still burning in a few places. Some of Arendelle's soldiers were still there, assessing the damage and carefully looking for any signs of who might have perpetrated the devastation.

They had left Arista there overseeing the unit of soldiers after she had told them about the ritual site that had been found due north of the ruined settlement. She had pulled all the Arendellan soldiers back as soon as they spotted the first gruesome runes, painted in blood on the snow.

From the air as they descended, the massive circle outlined by the crimson runes was clearly evident, and Clarke wasn't sure if it was a trick of the light reflecting off of the snow or if the eerie characters truly were shimmering with unholy light as she forced herself to look at them. In the center of the circle, which had to be at least fifty or sixty meters in diameter, was a black pool that made Clarke's stomach turn just looking at it. She fought the bile back down, closing her eyes as she focused her willpower on remaining calm.

The touch of Lexa's gloved hand on her own brought a grateful smile to Clarke's face, and the press of lips against her bare cheek helped soothe her stomach as well as her nerves. "Thank you," Clarke whispered, smiling at Lexa's tenderness and thoughtfulness.

" _You don't have to do this, my love,"_ Lexa said in Trigedasleng, her voice impossibly gentle.

Clarke opened her eyes, lifting her head to meet intense green eyes looking at her, brimming with concern. _"Yes, I do,"_ she replied. _"I'm Wanheda. I'm your houmon and a leader of our people. My place is by your side, wherever that might take us."_

Lexa smiled back, pride mixed with sadness. She nodded, then leaned her head forward to press her forehead against Clarke's as they stared into each other's eyes.

—O—

"This is seriously creepy."

Five sets of eyes turned to focus on Clarke, raising the eerie sensation she was feeling by a factor of two. "Not helping, guys," she added. "Seriously."

They had landed nearly two hundred meters away from the glowing scarlet runes, felt by both Rose and Maleficent to be a safe distance, sending Icescale back toward the ruined village and Arista for the time being.

"How much blood did they have to use to make that circle?" Anna asked, drawing the attention away from Clarke, for which the blonde was quite grateful. "It's a lot bigger than the last one."

"Several bodies' worth," Briar Rose answered, starting to trudge forward through the snow toward the large circle of complicated runes, hands lifting the skirt of her long dress. "I recommend not thinking too much about the math."

"Yeah, probably good advice," Anna said to herself as much as anyone else, walking forward in the same direction as Rose. After a quick look and smile at Clarke, Lexa set off with Anna and Rose as well.

"What did they do here, Maleficent?" asked Elsa, slowly looking around at the immediate area, which appeared oddly untouched this far from the mystic runes. "And is it a good thing or a bad thing that there are no bodies in sight?"

The tall fairy slowly scanned the scene. Her wings had been folded up against her back, once again hidden by the cloak of her outfit. "My experience with dark magic is that the unknown rarely turns out to be a positive."

Elsa nodded slowly. "I was afraid you'd say something like that."

Clarke walked over to the blonde queen and the raven-haired sorceress, boots leaving a solitary trail of footprints in the ankle-deep snow as she walked. She had already noted that Elsa and Anna didn't leave footprints in the snow, but it appeared that Maleficent had her own magical method of achieving the same result. She checked the pistol holstered at her side; she had reloaded all three of her clips, with a few rounds of ammo left over. Raven would be ecstatic that Clarke was bringing the empty brass back, so they could be reloaded. Clarke would be just as happy not to have Raven swearing profusely at her for _"being so fucking careless with that brass, Griffin!"_ as she had put it the last time.

Clarke had just reached Elsa and Maleficent when Elsa frowned and looked around.

"Something's not right here," Elsa said.

Maleficent nodded. "I agree. Though my senses seem to be less acute than usual. Perhaps the residual magic in the area."

Elsa pointed at the slope just in front of them, rising steeply into a small hill. "Something about this hill..." she said, her voice tailing off. "It doesn't feel right."

Clarke looked at Maleficent, the faerie's aristocratic features bearing a puzzled expression. "Does dark magic normally cloud your... senses?" she asked, curious about how the whole magic thing worked.

Maleficent shook her head slightly, eyes still fixed upon the hill Elsa had indicated. "No, not normally," the tall faerie said distractedly as her mind pondered the possibilities of what Elsa could be subconsciously detecting that her own magic was having difficulty registering.

Clarke considered Maleficent's words for only a few more seconds before alarm bells began to sound in her mind. "Lexa!" she shouted, as she turned and began to run toward the other trio of women, walking toward the perimeter of the rune circle. "LEXA!"

—O—

It was uncertain whether it was Anna's or Rose's foot that triggered the ward, as they were both barely a step ahead of Lexa as the three of them drew near the massive circle delineated by the bloody runes.

A hiss spurt forth from beneath the dirty snow, causing all three women to halt in their tracks as they watched a dome of crimson light spring upward, enclosing them, the entirety of the runic circle and a significant area outside the runes. At the same time, the glowing runes making up the mystic circle rapidly faded from their faintly glowing red to pitch black, while the red light filtering through the dome of mystic energy now tinted the snow-covered ground blood-red. Then the oily pool at the center of the circle erupted with gouts of black filth.

Lexa's sword was drawn and in her right hand in just over a second, just about the time the first oily spatters began to rise from the snow and wetly flow into the shape of shadowy figures, anthropomorphic in having a head, a torso, two arms and two legs but otherwise lacking any details beyond a glistening but featureless ebon uniformity.

With the blink of an eye, one of the shadowy spirits was in front of Lexa; out of pure reflex, she darted to the side, dodging a spray of steaming black goo from its head before her mind could even register that it had happened. The forehand slash with her sword was similarly sudden, striking the thing at what passed for its neck. There was no resistance like that of a human body as the blade cleaved through the shadow, but no sooner had the blade left the creature's form than the shade shattered into a thousand inky shards.

Lexa turned to see a trio of the shades spraying the same viscous fluid at Rose, only to have the oily spray disintegrate in the glow of brilliant yellow light coming from the palm of the blonde's hand, brandished in front of her; the shades themselves met the same fate only a moment later, withering into wisps of smoke in the magic's fearsome light.

A noise somehow combining a growl and a hiss seized Lexa's attention; she shifted her sword into a guard position as another shade slid toward her, not walking so much as gliding in her direction. She remained ready to leap to the side, only to be surprised by the creature's jet-black chest suddenly fading into a dull white as the tip of a gleaming white blade jutted outward. The creature shattered only a second later, revealing a very angry Anna.

"I do _not_ like it when people set traps for us," Anna grumbled as she turned her back to Lexa, shifting her shield to block one shade's clawed fingers as it swiped at her while slicing her icy sword, the length of its slim blade glowing a bright blue-white, through another shade's body.

"It's incredibly rude!" Rose called out from where she was nearly surrounded by the ghoulish creatures, although the pitch and inflection of her voice sounded more like Aurora's to Lexa. Despite the shades vomiting filth at the blonde and slashing at her with their claws, they seemed unable to penetrate the glowing pink bubble now surrounding her. "These spirits have no manners whatsoever!"

Anna quickly looked to Lexa. "You take the left, I'll clear the right," the redhead said, twin braids still swinging from her motion, then she was surging forward toward their friend without waiting for a reply. Lexa grinned with excitement as she followed, angling away from Anna and swinging her sword in a powerful but controlled arc as she reached the shades encircling Aurora. Two of the ghostly creatures shattered as Lexa's sword drove through them, quickly followed by another, then another as the brunette danced around Aurora's shield, her sword's blade cutting lethal arcs and angles through the monsters until she met Anna only seconds later, on the opposite side of Aurora from where they had started.

The luminescent bubble disappeared without even a pop, revealing the blonde princess, her features cast in unnerving crimson from the glowing dome surrounding them. "Thank you both," Aurora said politely, smoothing the skirt of her dress before a vexed look spread across her face. "Oh, bother," she said, looking back toward the circle of runes and the pit of filth in its center.

"Snowballs," Anna added, her voice laced with frustration as she stared in the same direction.

Lexa only glowered as the scores of jet-black shades erupting from the center of the now-inert ritual circle continued to swirl into being.

—O—

"Shit!" Clarke shouted as the dully-glowing crimson dome snapped into being, trapping Lexa, Anna and Rose inside it while she watched. Her pistol was in her left hand as she ran toward the dome, but she hesitated to shoot at the dome in case the bullets might pass through and harm the women inside.

She stopped just short of running into the dome, placing her left forearm and open right hand against the shimmering surface, aglow with scarlet light. It felt smooth, similar to glass but with a peculiar quality that made the fine hairs on her right arm begin to prickle upward. She balled her right hand into a fist, then slammed it in to the dome, which gave nothing against the blow.

Clarke pounded again and again, stopping briefly to shout, "LEXA!" against the dome, her lips tingling from just the proximity to the dome's surface without actually touching it. Not hearing a reply from within, she took several steps back to get a running start. If she had taken the time to consider the feasibility of a magical prison strong enough to contain her wife yet fragile enough to shatter with Clarke slamming her body into it, Clarke would have realized that what she was about to try would almost certainly be pointless, but she had to try.

Until the hill now well behind Clarke, the same one that Elsa and Maleficent were examining more closely, exploded.

—O—

The force of the explosion blew Elsa and Maleficent off their feet, the sudden impact partially stunning them even as Elsa's powers reflexively froze the air in front of them into a shield, deflecting a significant portion of the blast. The two landed awkwardly on the snow, which cushioned Elsa's fall significantly more than Maleficent's but was unable to do much about how Elsa's left arm was painfully bent beneath her as she landed.

Elsa's vision snapped back into focus moments later, barely in time to see the rocky debris falling onto them. Her arms shot upward as silvery-white magic sprayed forth, almost in concert with the greenish-yellow wave of power that erupted from Maleficent's fingertips. Elsa did her best to push through the shooting pain in her left forearm as the two streams of magic slid around each other, Elsa's frosty magic striking the smaller rocks and larger boulders alike, turning them into lighter crystals of ice and snow, while Maleficent's magic weaved itself into a convex shield over them and the dome behind them, guiding the shower of frosty debris away from them until the rain of rocks and dirt had ceased.

"What was that you were saying about unexpected occurrences and dark magic, Mal?" Elsa asked, still lying on her back in the snow, her heart pounding with adrenaline as the throbbing of her left forearm clamored for her attention more strongly.

There was a long pause before Maleficent's distinct voice replied from beside Elsa's position. "I think, perhaps, that my dear Rose might have competition over who gets to kill the Codex's thief first."

Despite the danger of their situation and the shooting pain in her arm, Elsa couldn't keep from laughing.

—O—

By Lexa's count, she had personally dispatched over twenty shades by now. She had no idea how many Anna's sword and Aurora's magic had destroyed, likely in the scores from the glimpses she had been able to catch, but the monsters showed no signs of their numbers thinning.

"Time for a different strategy!" Anna shouted from Lexa's left.

Lexa drew her dagger, wielding it in her left hand as a main gauche while slashing another shade with her sword. She turned to see Anna run toward the glowing dome, stopping just short to plunge her icy blade into the dome itself, shoulder-high.

Anna gritted her teeth as she tugged the magic sword to her right, dragging it through the fiercely resisting field of blood magic, a shower of white and scarlet sparks spraying with each movement. But only moments after the glowing icy blade had carved its path through the magical construct, the crimson magic reformed behind it.

"My sword's cutting it, but it's reforming!" Anna shouted.

An aggrieved shriek came from Lexa's flank, but the brunette was unable to spare even a second's focus as she dodged between the combined assault of four shades, twisting and ducking while striking back when the opportunity presented itself. After she had eliminated three of the quartet engaging her, Lexa lunged toward the last only to stop short when a gleaming green tendril wrapped around the shade's throat. There was just enough of a pause for Lexa to register that the glowing cord had actually taken the shape of a slender vine, thorns jutting along its length, before the vine suddenly retracted at blinding speed, sawing through the specter's neck and causing it to explode into the now-familiar ebony shards that littered the snow-covered ground.

"I _hate_ shades," hissed Briar Rose, hands glowing with emerald light that seemed to warp and sway around her, fury writ across her fair face. "Lexa!" she shouted, pausing just long enough to meet the warrior's intense gaze. "We'll need you to shield us while we carve our way out of this damned trap!"

Lexa nodded, breaking into a controlled run toward Rose while Rose turned and sprinted toward Anna, a green glow lifting Rose's skirt up to her thighs to allow freer movement for her legs. Midway there, more magical "vines" shot forth from Rose's hands, these glowing a darker jade, directed at the tiny sliver of space Anna's icy sword was carving through the mystic prison covering them.

Lexa stopped about ten feet away from her two companions, turning her back to them as a wave of shades crashed against her. She slashed with both her dagger and her sword, weaving a wall of blades against the encroaching specters that stopped their forward rush.

When they suddenly split to go around her, however, a change in strategy was required.

Lexa lunged to her left first, driving the blade of her dagger into the nearest shade's head. She didn't wait for it to shatter before surging back to her right, reaching backward slightly before sweeping her sword forward, dispelling the shade who had nearly reached Rose and Anna, their backs still turned as they worked on breaching the crimson dome; Lexa used her strength to power through two more shades as she completed the broad sweep with her slim sword, lifting the blade to pass over their heads as she used her momentum to complete her spin.

When the shades began to press from directly in front of her again, Lexa found herself impossibly pressed, incapable despite her vast skill of both protecting her friends and guarding herself from the icy claws of the spirits throwing themselves against her. She tightened her jaw and focused less on defense and more on destroying the shades, ignoring the piercing, chilling strikes to her arms, her chest, her legs, as they began to accumulate.

These things would NOT have her new allies, Lexa swore to herself. They would not have Clarke. They would know the cruel bite of her blade and her unbreakable will, and they would be smashed between the two. She smiled grimly in the face of death, and she kept slashing.

Behind Lexa's guard action, magic continued to hiss and spark. As Anna's frost blade and Rose's magic wreaked havoc upon on the enchantment enclosing them, the once-crimson glow of the dome's blood magic steadily faded to a dark gray at the site of the mystic struggle, the color shift blooming outward like ink dripped into water, spreading over a large portion of the dome before the structure finally broke, shattering and effervescing into nothing.

As the dome disappeared, the shades melted into nothing with it, much to the relief of Lexa, whose chest and throat were now completely numb but continued to burn with pain. Her aching arms fell to her sides, just as numb as the rest of her, but she had held her ground. Her friends were safe. Clarke would be safe.

"Nasty piece of work there," Anna grumbled, glancing around. "Almost—"

Rose's rejoinder died on her lips as Anna suddenly ran past her; Rose turned just in time to see Lexa's stiff body hit the snow face-first, just before Anna's outstretched arms could grab her.

After tossing Lexa's dropped dagger to her other side, next to the brunette's slim sword, Anna scooped her hands beneath Lexa and rolled the brunette over onto her back. "She's not breathing," Anna gasped.

"She's paralyzed," Rose muttered, extending her hands and her mystic senses over Lexa's chest. "Gods, she should be dead from the damage she took protecting us. She's a tough one."

"Can you save her?" asked Anna, her freckled cheeks now lightly flushed with concern.

"I can't," Rose said, shaking her head, her cheeks an intense red.

Anna felt her breath catch in her chest like a jagged blade.

"But I know who can," Rose added, a hint of hope in her intense blue eyes.

Rose closed those same eyes, holding her position for two, three long seconds before her blue eyes popped open again. Immediately a glow of violet light appeared at her hands, growing deeper in color but not in brightness as Aurora concentrated, channeling her healing magic through Lexa's body.

There was no blood, no marks on her skin; instead, the damage from the shades had been done to the warrior's spirit, making the wounds considerably more difficult to heal. After nearly three minutes the violet glow faded, and Aurora's arms dropped to her sides while the blonde took in a deep, weary breath. "She'll wake any minute," Aurora said, slumping against Anna before starting to cry softly.

"Aurora?" Anna asked, confused. "What's wrong? Are you wounded too?"

"No," the blonde mumbled wetly. "It was our fault."

"What was your fault?"

Aurora gestured weakly toward where Lexa lay still, now sleeping instead of dying. "Her getting hurt," she said. "My magic couldn't free us, and Rose's magic wasn't fast enough. We—"

"Oh, freeze that!" Anna spat.

Aurora's eyes widened as she shifted to look at her friend. "What?" she asked softly.

Anna's face was now flushed with anger. "What hurt her was those gods-damned shadow... _things!_ Not you, not Rose, and not me!" Seeing the uncertainty on the blonde's face, Anna continued. "Lexa knew we were eventually going to be overwhelmed unless we broke the enchantment, and she fought like Hel to make that happen! She was _willing_ to sacrifice herself to buy us enough time to break the spell. None of that is _your_ fault."

"She's right," wheezed a soft voice. Slowly Lexa rolled onto her right side before carefully pushing herself up into a seated position. "I would have been useless against any magic."

"Well, now, don't sell yourself short on that," Anna replied, a quirky grin on her face.

Lexa blinked her eyes a few times, staring at Anna's amused face. "What do you mean?" she asked, honestly confused, although whether that was from Anna's coy words or almost dying was unclear at the moment.

Anna gestured around them. "The shades. What do you think _they_ were made of, Lexa?"

She couldn't help but giggle slightly at the look of comprehension that dawned on Lexa's face.

—O—

The force of the explosion, though well behind her, still knocked Clarke face-first into the snow. A quick look toward the dome showed the blast didn't appear to harm the magical construct at all.

Again the yearning of her heart, Clarke pushed herself up and climbed to her feet, then she turned her back on the dome and started running back to Elsa and Maleficent. Lexa could take care of herself, and so could Anna and Rose. In any event, Clarke's best chances of getting inside that dome lay with the two women that appeared to be picking themselves up from the ground, and that fueled her sprint even more.

Elsa was holding her left arm as she climbed to her feet, while Maleficent didn't appear to be hurt too badly as she likewise regained her footing. Clarke had almost reached Elsa when a terrifying shriek came from the cloud of black, oily smoke covering what was left of the small hill that had exploded.

"What the hell was _that?"_ she shouted as she stopped beside the other two women, where Elsa appeared to be creating a cast of ice that covered her left forearm from elbow to hand.

Maleficent turned to look at Clarke, one eyebrow raised and a queer smile on her face as she looked at the blonde. "I fear your question to be more accurate than you might have guessed," spoke the tall faerie, her normally-calm voice holding a hint of dark humor deep inside.

A host of blurry black forms erupted from the dark smoke, hurtling in seemingly all directions at once, a continuous spray of fluttering shadows before coalescing into streams, which then bent and shifted direction—shooting themselves directly toward Clarke, Elsa and Maleficent.

Clarke's pistol was already in her hand, but the... _things_ , whatever they were, remained too far away to hit accurately. Grimly, Clarke realized that wouldn't be the case for much longer.

A shimmering orange-red bolt of power sizzled over Clarke's head, striking one of the approaching streams and reducing much of it to ashes which slowly fell down to the snow below. A second bolt of magical power vaporized even more, but a few of the shadowy things survived, though scattered and apparently directionless for the moment. Twin streams of silver-white magic lanced through the sky, so cold that Clarke could feel its bite against her face and neck through her magical protection despite the blasts being several feet away. Elsa's ice blasts reduced the sooty looking things to ashes and frost, just as Maleficent's magic was incinerating them. However, a few of the shades managed to slip through the magical blasts, and they quickly converged on the position the women had taken up next to each other.

Clarke's pistol rang out, the sharp report of each shot sounding oddly muffled to Clarke's ear, but she noticed both Elsa and Maleficent jumped and looked at her with the first gunshot, quickly going back to their work neutralizing the shades as soon as they realized what the sharp noise had been.

"Shit," Clarke swore to herself as she put four shots into the nearest shadow, now only meters away and clearly possessing a vague humanoid shape, including wickedly long talons on its hands and feet. However, despite her definitely hitting it with her last two shots from close range, the bullets had no visible effect; the creature continued to drift toward the three of them slowly, almost teasingly.

"My shots aren't hurting them!" she cried out, after switching to another shade circling them and having the same lack of effect as with the first.

"They're shades," Maleficent hissed, turning to send a bolt of chartreuse energy directly into the nearest creature's chest, reducing it to ashes and cinders with a dry sizzle. "Spirits! Pieces of souls, animated by dark magic." Her intense green eyes met Clarke's gaze, irritation seeming to bore into Clarke's psyche. "You can no more harm them with metal _projectiles_ than punch the wind!"

"Well, _sorry!"_ Clarke snapped back, her hackles rising at the condescension in the sorceress's voice. "It's my first time being attacked by shadows that want to _eat me!"_

A second blast of yellow-green magic from Maleficent's fingers eliminated the second shade approaching, then another blast vaporized a third that had made it close to them after dodging Elsa's streams of icy magic. She turned to look at Clarke again, taking a moment to tamp down her frustration with the situation and her worry about her love trapped inside the crimson dome nearby. "They want to consume your soul, not your body," she finally said, her voice still cool and aloof but not as haughty. "They're creatures of spirit and magic. They must be fought with the same."

"Well, that's great," Clarke huffed, running her hand over her head in a gesture of frustration. "I don't have any magic to wield!"

Maleficent's right eyebrow lifted in a quizzical manner; a sly grin just barely crossed her dark red lips. "No, but _spirit_ you do have... in abundance."

Another shadow swooped down toward them, but despite looking directly at it, Maleficent turned back to Clarke, gave her a thin smile, then quite deliberately turned her back on the blonde. She once again rejoined Elsa in repulsing the larger waves of shades, who now were breaking up into wider groups instead of the previous streams. Red and green waves of magic joined Elsa's silver and white blasts shooting up into the sky, leaving Clarke staring at the shade that was now flying directly toward the three of them, faster than the earlier attackers.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Clarke muttered as the shade closed to within thirty meters. "Projectiles don't work," she said quietly to herself, replaying Maleficent's words in her head.

Going against what her hard-won survival instincts were screaming at her, she holstered her pistol. Her eyes never left the shadowy figure, which seemed to be steering itself at Elsa and Maleficent, not directly at Clarke. "So I'm not a threat, huh?" Clarke spoke quietly, drawing the long dagger Lexa had given her earlier, gripping and regripping it in her left hand nervously until it finally felt just right in her grasp. She waited until the creature was nearly upon her friends, then she launched herself forward in a lunge, driving the knife's blade into its chest, where a human's heart and lung would be.

It wasn't exactly the same impact she would have felt had she been stabbing a human, but Clarke felt a clear resistance, though much less than flesh and muscle would have produced. But the second her blade struck deep, the creature seized up, shuddering momentarily before crumbling into ashes and soot, which slowly trickled down to the snow.

Clarke stared at the dark particles fluttering downward for a few seconds before she looked up, barely in time to see the next shade barreling at her. Reflexively she managed to get her knife between her and it, with the creature's momentum impaling itself upon her blade right as she began to feel the stinging, creeping cold of its touch brush against her arms and chest.

She swallowed thickly, heart pounding and her mind aware of how lucky she had just gotten with letting herself get distracted during a fight. She adjusted her grip on her knife and quickly scanned the area around her and her two friends, identifying the next shadow to evade the magical artillery of Maleficent and Elsa and positioning herself to intercept it.

Clarke was _not_ going to die, not with so much ahead for her and Lexa, and if these shadow spirits and whoever sent them thought otherwise, they were about to be proven wrong.

—O—

After while felt like an hour but was likely only minutes, the sky around them was once more clear, much to Clarke's delight.

She was soaked with sweat, despite the arctic temperatures, and she had shed her thick outer coat about halfway through the fighting due to needing more mobility to intercept the shades that made it close enough for her to fight them, but Lexa's training in melee combat had served Clarke extremely well, with only a few minor wounds on her arms that burned yet felt frozen at the same time. Maleficent and Elsa had proven extremely effective at blasting the shades from the sky, with only a small number of them getting close enough for Clarke to dispatch them.

"Is that it?" Clarke asked, taking in a few deep breaths as she tried to slow her heart back to a normal rate.

"It appears so," Maleficent said, again perusing their surroundings carefully, appearing as calm and unflappable as if she had spent the entire morning at tea.

"Something's shimmering over there," Elsa said.

Clarke and Maleficent turned to look at the blonde queen, who was pointing with her right arm at what remained of the destroyed hill that had concealed the shades. "I can see light reflecting off the edges of the crater," added Elsa. "Something's in there."

"Hopefully it's not any more of these things," Clarke said, wryly kicking at the ashes collected on the snow around them.

When the ashes swirled away from her, however, she jumped backward with a slight yelp (which she would vigorously deny later, to no effect).

Elsa turned to look at Clarke, but the small wave of ashes blowing around and past her claimed her attention instead. All three women turned and watched as the ashes and cinders that had turned the snow around them gray built up mass, increasing in volume as they all swirled together into a massive cloud, growing larger by the second as more and more remnants of the shades coalesced.

When the roiling smoky cloud was nearly thirty meters tall, Clarke flatly stated, "No way I'm sticking a knife in that thing."

Elsa instantly snorted with laughter. Then _Maleficent_ laughed, the sound rich and full-throated, increasing in volume after she turned and saw the serious expression on Clarke's face.

The three of them turned back to the enormous cloud, just in time to see the blowing soot suddenly surge inward with a roar like that of a flash flood. In an instant, the smoky mass was gone, and standing in its place was a monstrous behemoth, nearly as tall as the highest spire of Arendelle Castle, with a horned head like that of a bull and a toothy maw like that of an alligator. Its body was thick and powerful but relatively short, more reminiscent of a dog than of a bull or horse, and its coloration was the same ebon darkness the shades had been. Unlike the shades, this creature's eyes glowed a simmering red, like that of angry coals left behind after a fire's flames had been extinguished.

"CLARKE!"

Clarke turned to look for the shout that had come behind her, and her heart leapt as she saw Lexa running toward her, Anna and Rose trying to keep pace but unable to match Lexa's speed. "Oh my God, _Lexa!"_ Clarke cried, running to meet her wife.

Elsa saw the towering creature shift its gaze toward Clarke, whose back was now turned to the behemoth, noting Anna, Rose and Lexa approaching them as well. Elsa's right arm shot upward instantly, just before the creature opened its maw to spew forth thick, steaming black goo toward Clarke and the others. Her ice wall materialized well before the bubbling filth, blocking it easily. The ice hissed and steamed where the viscous fluid struck it and slowly slid downward, but the wall held easily.

"Enough of these games!" Elsa heard Maleficent shout behind her. The blonde queen smiled knowingly at hearing that tone of voice from her friend, while she kept her concentration on shielding her wife and their friends from the behemoth's attack.

 _Now_ these shades had gone and done it.

—O—

Clarke reached Lexa just as the steaming black filth struck Elsa's ice wall behind her. The sound startled the blonde, but Lexa's tight one-armed grip held Clarke against her securely. Clarke turned in Lexa's embrace to watch the thick black fluid spatter across the transparent ice wall hovering in front of and over them for several seconds before the stream ceased, letting the goo slowly seep down the steeply-angled ice barrier until it dripped onto the snow.

With a brilliant shimmer, the ice wall briefly glowed, then the muck was likewise enveloped in the bright glow. In less than two seconds, wall and filth alike dissolved into effervescent flakes of frost, drifting upward as all of it faded from view, revealing the gigantic shadow beast looming over Elsa and Maleficent, standing nearly a hundred feet high, its eyes glowing like hot coals as its coal-black body stood in eye-popping contrast to the light sky and white snow all around. It seemed to be considering which group of women to attack first, as its wedge-shaped head looked from one group to another.

Anna and Rose kept running toward Clarke and Lexa until Anna stopped abruptly, sheathing her sword as Rose kept running toward Lexa and Clarke, who were now moving forward at a careful pace toward the shadow behemoth.

After only a few seconds later, an ear-splitting roar made Clarke and Lexa look back up to the massive creature, where the glow of its left eye was fading rapidly. A shimmering patch of white was visible over part of the now-dark red eye, and Lexa thought she could see a silvery arrow protruding from the damaged area. She looked behind her to see Anna taking aim with what appeared to be a longbow made entirely of ice, down to the glistening white string and argent arrow nocked and held in position to be fired.

Lexa turned her attention back to where she and Clarke were going, with Rose just a few seconds behind them while the trio trudged through the calf-high snow. A whistling noise shooting over their heads told Lexa that Anna had fired the arrow she had seen her aiming, but this time the foul behemoth lifted a massive paw, intercepting the arrow aimed for its remaining eye. The arrow still struck the creature's paw, though, eliciting another angry bellow as a silvery stain spread out from where it had struck.

The monster slammed its paw back onto the ground, causing the area to shudder powerfully enough to throw Lexa and Clarke off their stride and send Rose stumbling into the snow. The creature then flattened itself slightly, not unlike a panther preparing to pounce.

Seeing what was about to happen, Anna's arms fell to her side as her stomach plummeted inside her. "This is bad," she said to herself, before breaking into a run to her left, trying to shift the angle of the monster's almost-certain attack far enough away to spare her friends, who were trapped between her and it.

As the behemoth lunged forward toward Clarke, Lexa and Rose, Lexa pushed Clarke to the side, shouting, "Get clear!"

Clarke, however, ignored her wife's request in favor of grabbing Lexa's right hand and pulling Lexa toward her as she tried to reach Rose, who was still pulling herself out of the snow. Lexa lowered her head and braced herself for the crushing impact of the creature trampling them, when a crashing _smack_ , followed by a deep, angry roar, rang out above them.

Lexa and Clarke looked up to see a gigantic black dragon, its underside a greenish-purple, drive itself into the shadow behemoth, the brutal impact sending both of them rolling across the tundra, tossing snow and dirt in all directions. The dragon wasn't quite as large as the behemoth, but it was still massive, and as Lexa and Clarke watched, the dragon's long neck slid out of the path of one of the shadow-beast's swipes, then the black dragon opened its jaws to blast the behemoth with a gout of brilliant green flame.

The behemoth threw itself to the ground with a resounding crash, once again shaking the earth around it, but the dragon clung tightly to it, slashing with front and hind limbs as well as biting deeply into the behemoth's back.

As the two titans rolled toward them, Lexa realized their position was still quite hazardous. "We have to move," she said, helping Clarke pull Rose to her feet.

Clarke met Lexa's worried green eyes and nodded. "You okay?" she asked Rose, who angrily brushed snow from her face.

"Yes," Rose replied quickly, looking over to assess where the two monsters thrashed back and forth. "We can help her in a minute, once we're out of danger of being crushed," she said, her eyes locked on the battle and her voice slightly distant. She turned back to Clarke and Lexa. "Is Anna alright?" she asked, looking around them once more.

"Yes!" Anna shouted as she reached them, only now slowing her run. Her bow was still in her hand and her cheeks were a rosy pink from exertion, but she appeared perfectly fine. "Sorry about almost getting you—"

"Later!" Lexa said, gripping Clarke's arm enough to get her attention, then releasing her as she started to run away from the beasts and toward Elsa, who was maybe a hundred meters away. The others followed her, reaching the blonde queen quickly.

—O—

In her dragon form, Maleficent ignored the burning wounds in her back from the shadow-beast's talons, focusing instead on trying to burn the creature's head off completely as she unleashed another gout of fiery breath directly into its face. However, that kept her head still long enough for another of the creature's paws to gouge her throat.

She pulled her neck away, tucking it along the behemoth's other flank which raking with her own claws across the monster's sides. Then she felt a cooling sensation settle over her body, a familiar sensation that made feelings of happiness and comfort begin to flitter across her insides as her wounds began to close and the pain from them receded.

—O—

Aurora stood still, her hands glowing a soft lavender as she used her magic to heal Maleficent from afar. Around her Anna, Elsa, Clarke and Lexa continued to watch the dragon and the shadow behemoth brawl.

Clarke was transfixed by the surreal sight. She wished she had a camera, because no one was ever going to believe this without hard proof.

Lexa turned to look at Elsa briefly. "Would your powers be effective from here?" she asked, curious.

Elsa nodded, not taking her eyes off the battle as Maleficent's rear talons opened a huge crimson gash in the behemoth's side. "Absolutely," she added. "But Maleficent would get offended if I directly helped her in a one-on-one battle like this."

Lexa considered the monarch's words and nodded, understanding without further explanation.

"But..." Elsa said, now turning to smile at Lexa. "There _are_ other ways of helping without being quite so obvious about it."

"My healing, for one," Aurora said politely, lowering her hands once the light purple aura around them faded.

"Annnndd... _that_ ," Elsa said, prompting Lexa to turn to look at the brawl again.

—O—

Maleficent dodged another flurry of swipes at her face, trying to ignore the stinging that the behemoth's rear claws had opened up in her flanks. She snapped at the creature's throat, but it was able to extend its head just far enough backward to dodge the razor-sharp teeth of Maleficent's dragon form.

Then a blast of icy magic struck the creature's head from the side, as a large glittering white dragon soared to a stop just above the two beasts locked in combat, flapping its wings to hold its position in the air while it pounded the shadow-beast with a relentless stream of burning-cold frost against its head.

Seizing the opportunity, Maleficent unleashed her own fiery breath again, striking the shadow behemoth directly in its face this time. Feeling the blood magic empowering the creature beginning to buckle under the two-pronged mystic assault, Maleficent forced even more power through her fire breath as Icescale did much the same. Finally, after interminable seconds, the creature's head exploded into an oily cloud, with its body doing the same an instant later.

Maleficent instantly shut down her fire breath, collapsing on the snowy terrain. Beside her, Icescale dropped to the ground as well, plodding over to carefully examine the black and green dragon that was even larger than him, taking care to not actually touch her. While his mistresses enjoyed affection and touch, not everyone did, and Icescale knew to respect the intimidating faerie's personal space, regardless of her form at the moment.

"Go to her," a smiling Elsa said to Aurora, getting a look of relief flashed her way before the blonde turned and ran toward the two dragons. Elsa watched carefully, but there was no sign of any further activity among the shadows or from the crater in the mountain.

"We walked into a trap too," Anna said as she squeezed Elsa's right hand. "Is your arm going to be okay?" Anna asked, bending over to examine the ice cast encompassing Elsa left arm from the elbow to the hand.

"It'll be fine," Elsa said, running the fingers of her right hand through Anna's bangs gently. "Now that I know all of you are safe."

As they, Lexa and Clarke watched, Icescale moved back at Aurora's approach. The blonde's entire body was surrounded by a nimbus of lavender light as she knelt beside the black and green dragon, and that soft glow quickly extended to encompass the dragon's body as well. After several seconds, the dragon began to shrink, as black and green scales shifted, reforming into a black cloak beneath Aurora's touch. The lavender glow remained intense for several more seconds, then it too faded quickly.

"Should we go over to her?" Clarke asked Elsa.

Elsa shook her head, with Anna copying her action almost exactly. "We'll let Aurora and Rose get her stabilized," Elsa said quietly. "Then they'll come join us."

"I'm a healer," Clarke said, feeling a bit underutilized. "I might be able to help."

Elsa turned to look at Clarke. Her smile faded as her face turned carefully neutral. "I'm sure you could help," Elsa spoke carefully. "But Maleficent might not take well to the implication that she might _need_ help."

Clarke turned to look at the tall faerie, now slowly standing with the help of the shorter blonde with her. She sighed softly. "God, people and their egos," she mumbled.

Lexa bumping her hip occurred at about the same time as Anna giggling softly behind Clarke. "You shouldn't say such rude things about someone who turned into a dragon to save us from being trampled," Lexa said to Clarke, a soft smile on her face.

Clarke nodded, finally beginning to acknowledge the numb giddiness that came with the fading of adrenaline and the knowledge that she had survived yet another encounter with someone or something trying to kill her. "Good point," she admitted, turning to look at her wife. "You're not just pretty. You're smart too," she said teasingly, caressing Lexa's right cheek with her bare hand.

"Sorry about almost getting you killed back there," Anna said, looking at Lexa and Clarke with a guilty expression.

"What?" Lexa said, beating Elsa and Clarke. "You were trying to kill the shade-beast! There is _nothing_ for which you should apologize!"

Clarke nodded, resting her right hand briefly on Anna's shoulder, where the Summer Queen's green cloak covered her ice mail armor. Even with Elsa's enchantment protecting her from the cold, Clarke could feel the bite of the magical armor through the cloak. "Lexa's right, Queen Anna. Any regular creature, an arrow to the eye would have killed it, or at least incapacitated it. You were trying to protect us _all_. You're not responsible for what it did after that."

Elsa put her hands on Anna's shoulders before stepping forward and kissing Anna's forehead. "We all worked well together," Elsa said, smiling happily when Anna closed her eyes and stepped forward, leaning into Elsa's embrace. "Despite someone setting multiple traps for us."

"We need to examine the ritual site closely," said Maleficent as she and Rose approached the others. The blonde had insinuated herself beneath Maleficent's cloak, tucked against the tall faerie's left side in a show of rare public intimacy from the two of them. Only Rose's head and part of her chest could be seen, as she had drawn the ebony cloak around the two of them much like Maleficent normally did when walking.

"No splitting up this time," Elsa said.

"Indeed," Maleficent nodded. "We must proceed with extreme caution, in case there remains a trap yet to be sprung here."

"I'm pretty sure that rune circle went dead," Anna said, having turned without leaving Elsa's embrace; now Anna's back was to Elsa's chest, with the blonde queen's arms around Anna's waist as Anna leaned back against her partner. "Setting off the trap seemed to break the enchantment, which set free all the shades that had been bound inside that black pool."

"I agree," Rose added, looking up to Maleficent. A quick grin flashed across Rose's face, then she quickly lunged upward to place a kiss on Maleficent's pale cheek, causing the taller woman's eyebrows to shoot upward. Grinning as she returned to her previous position snuggled against Maleficent and pointedly ignoring the curious look the taller woman was now giving her, Rose turned back to address the others. "When we were approaching the ritual site, I could feel a tremendous amount of power still trapped in the circle. Obviously, now that we know better, it had to be the shades as well as that dome, designed to hold us in place until we were overwhelmed. Nasty piece of work, that.

"Once the dome was down, though, the anchored spells collapsed, releasing the remaining shades from where they had been bound. After that, I couldn't feel any power still present, inside the ritual circle or without." Considering what else she had noticed inside the charnel pit in the center of the circle once the filth had dissipated, she hesitated briefly before deciding that their friends needed to know the grisly truth about what had happened to the missing villagers.

"There's more I need to tell you about that circle," Rose sighed, "but it can wait until we see what's still inside what's left of that hill. What's left in the circle doesn't present an immediate danger at this point. What's over there," Rose said, pointing toward the sparkling light now visibly shining over the lip of the raised, ragged small caldera, "we're still not sure about."

Rose looked up to Maleficent, her sapphire eyes meeting the faerie's emerald as Rose wordlessly inquired if her mate was up to any more exertion at the moment. Seeing the steely resolve she had expected to see in her lover's gaze, Rose smiled sadly, giving Maleficent a gentle pat on her slender chest before turning back to their friends.

"Let's go see what's left in that rubble."

—O—

With Maleficent not trusting herself to fly just yet, it was a short hike up the side of the caldera to the lowest point where the earth had been torn away.

"Well, you don't see that every day," Anna said as she looked down into the depression, having beaten the others to the top, although that was only because Lexa stopped to help Clarke after the blonde slipped on an icy patch on the modest slope.

Lexa and Clarke were next, with Elsa, Rose and Maleficent all climbing at a less competitive speed (and quietly laughing about the other three trying to show off).

"That's like the portal that brought us here!" Clarke shouted as she spied the tall, shimmering vertical circle of light at the bottom of the caldera's basin. Before it dozens if not hundreds of footprints had stomped the ground nearly clear of snow, the prints mostly filled with mud and dirt now.

"This hill isn't natural," Maleficent said, fingers splayed out and held over the ground as they trudged up the side of the hill, finally reaching the top to join the others. "It has the taint of blood magic, just as those shades did."

Elsa turned to look at her. "Do you mean to say it was _created_ by whomever set those traps for us?"

Maleficent nodded slightly. "That would be my theory, yes."

"But as a trap, or to hide this portal?" asked Rose, the tip of her index finger lightly touching her chin as she thought.

"Why not both?" asked Clarke. Seeing the others look to her, she continued. "Conceal the portal long enough to make us curious, mask any traces of dark magic to draw us in close, then blow it up in our faces."

There was silence for a few moments before Elsa spoke. "It very nearly worked," she said quietly, taking Anna's hand unconsciously.

"With a nasty second trap around the circle itself, in case the first one didn't kill us," Anna added.

"This portal is unstable," said Maleficent, her voice distinct in the momentary silence.

"It's collapsing?" Clarke asked, noting that while Lexa was content to let Clarke do the talking for now, her wife was carefully listening to and considering every word being spoken. It was cute, when she got all analytical.

Maleficent lifted her arms, and tendrils of blue-green magic streamed from her fingertips toward the shimmering pool of light. After a few seconds of consideration, she nodded. "Yes. It's unstable, but it feels like it is in no immediate danger of collapse."

"We also have to consider the possibility of the portals working in both directions," Lexa spoke, her voice clear and firm. "So we should secure this portal to prevent any others from returning through it while it remains open."

"We should stabilize the portal first," Rose said, her right hand extended toward the portal with her fingers extended. "Could last a few more days, could be a few hours. I can't really say for sure. Do you have any better sense of it, love?"

Maleficent was still for several seconds before shaking her head slowly. "Unfortunately, no better estimate than yours, Rose," she said. She turned to Anna and Elsa. "How long did the original portal stay open?"

"We have no idea," Elsa said, with Anna shaking her head in the negative as well. She turned to look at Clarke and Lexa. "You were the only ones here who went through it. Do you have any idea as to how long it was open?"

"No," Lexa answered for Clarke. "We only observed it for a few minutes before we had to go through it, and it faded almost immediately afterward."

After quiet contemplation from the six women for a few moments, Maleficent's voice finally broke the silence. "I do believe it would be best for you to stabilize the portal, Elsa," she said calmly.

"ME?" Elsa asked as her head leaned forward to look around Anna toward the tall faerie.

Maleficent nodded. "The portal was created using the blood of your people, deep in the heart of your lands. It should respond to your magic more effectively than mine."

"A logical idea," Elsa admitted, lifting her arms slightly. "I've never attempted this before, though."

"No matter," replied Maleficent. "Your magic is as much instinctive as it is deliberate, Elsa. It _knows_ what you want it to do."

"It's a part of you," Anna added quietly, smiling at her wife. "Just like it's a part of me, and of our girls."

"Yes," Maleficent agreed, allowing a small but honest smile to cross her ruby lips. "I shall help guide you through this process."

Elsa nodded, as Anna grinned and patted Elsa's shoulders before stepping back slightly.

"Begin by encircling the portal with your magic," Maleficent spoke. Elsa complied by raising her arms; streams of glistening ice and frost streamed in ribbons from her fingers, swirling into twin streams of white and pale blue as they flowed around the portal, surrounding it with a perimeter of softly glowing white.

"Very good," said Maleficent, her tone not unlike that of a tutor addressing a pupil. "Be cognizant of the feedback through your magic. Listen to what it is trying to tell you."

"It feels accepting so far," Elsa said, having to raise her voice slightly over the hissing of her magic interacting with the portal. "Nothing that feels catastrophic, at least. But there's a tension I can feel."

"Their blood demands vengeance, Elsa. It wants to help you find and stop the ones who committed this atrocity. Now visualize your magic weaving through the perimeter of the portal, interlacing itself with the blood-stained fabric of the gateway itself." She gave Elsa a few seconds, then continued as she felt Elsa's magic quickly begin to overpower the portal's dark underpinnings. "Good. Now you must use your magic to freeze the portal's edges, to affix it in place as well as time, while leaving the middle of the gateway untouched."

"What happens if something goes wrong?" asked Clarke, her curiosity about what she was watching overriding her restraint.

Anna immediately turned to look at her. "It won't," the redhead said quickly, her tone not harsh but clearly not inviting further discussion.

As they watched, the outer rim of the portal crystallized; Anna let out a small victory cheer, only to stop as the ice began to encroach inward from the outermost edges.

"It is a delicate balance," Maleficent said encouragingly. "A trick that even the most experienced wielders of magic have difficulty with at times—to seize command of another's gate without dispelling it. Quite difficult even for relatively short distances spanned, and this portal spans a vast distance indeed."

Elsa grimaced as she altered the flow of her magic slightly, summoning thoughts of hope and comfort to enhance her control as she tried to restrain the magic tugging at its metaphysical leash. However, it felt as though when she pushed the magic back in one dimension, it tried to surge in another. It was much like trying to stuff the ocean into a box, and Elsa felt her control beginning to fray as the frustration mounted over long minutes of delicate adjustments.

When she felt warmth encircle her chest, in the form of Anna's arms, Elsa closed her eyes; knowing immediately what her wife was about to say to her, Elsa stopped struggling with her magic and relaxed her control.

"Good," she felt as much as heard Anna whisper in her right ear, the warm breath tickling the fine hairs closest to Elsa's ear and making her skin tingle. "I don't even have to tell you any more, do I?" Anna continued, punctuating the sentence with a gentle kiss just behind Elsa's ear. "Just feel me, my love, and let your magic do the work. It may be headstrong at times, but nothing can resist us when we're together."

As Anna hugged Elsa tightly, her ice mail and Elsa's ice dress transmitted every sensation between the two mates' skin, allowing Elsa to feel Anna's softness and heat as if nothing stood between their bodies. Elsa relished the warmth, the safety, the acceptance, the passion, the love that Anna gave her as no one else possibly could. She totally lost sense of her magic and what it was doing, instead enthralled with all she felt from Anna and the fierce love that forever bound them together.

With a crisp crackling noise, the ice locked into place around the portal as it also stopped flowing from Elsa's hands, leaving a gleaming blue-white frame in place around the portal, which continued to shimmer and flow inside its new border. Elsa's hands immediately settled over Anna's arms encircling her chest, gently pressing down on them in a loving manner.

"Thank you," Elsa whispered, knowing the words were unnecessary.

"Anytime, and always," Anna replied, knowing it too.

"Impressive," Maleficent said with a notable aching of her left eyebrow as she inspected the stabilized portal. She turned to her side, to see Rose giving her a rather smug _I-told-you-so_ look. It took all of Maleficent's legendary self-control to not send a stinging charm directly into her partner's trim rear, but she managed to restrain herself in front of the others.

"Thank you, Maleficent, for talking me through that," Elsa said, beaming at Maleficent, although the faerie suspected her happiness was at least as much due to being held in her lover's arms as it was sense of accomplishment.

Maleficent stood a bit more tall, pointedly ignoring the teasing look on Rose's face. "It was my pleasure, Elsa," she said, allowing a hint of informality to creep into her words. "Would you like to seal this off for now, or would you like Rose to do it?"

"Oh, I'd love to take care of that little matter," Elsa said, her grin darkening as she thought of the vicious surprises that had been left for her friends, for her... and for Anna. She lifted her hands, with the air shimmering before them as a thick, opaque dome of ice materialized over the portal, extending into and through the ground beneath it to form an impenetrable sphere enclosing the gateway between worlds. As a final touch, she chilled the air inside the sphere to near-lethal levels as her own unpleasant surprise for anyone who might attempt to skulk back into their world.

"That should keep us secure for now," Elsa said, lowering her arms. "Now let's see what we can learn from whatever these monsters have left behind."

—O—

Hours later, the sextet of women who finally walked through the main doors of Arendelle Castle late that evening looked considerably more haggard and world-weary.

As Hilde, their castle's head of staff, approached them, the pleasant words of greeting that had been on her lips died as she registered just how exhausted her queens and their friends were. Even the elegant, aloof Maleficent, who had never presented as anything other than intimidating and perfectly composed, looked as if she could have used three days' sleep.

Quickly gathering her wits, Hilde smiled. "Welcome home, Your Majesties, Your Highness, Ladies!" she said, trying to inject some positivity into what had obviously been a grueling day.

"Thanks, Hilde," Anna said, mustering a smile for the ashen blonde. "Arista should be back tomorrow. She wanted us to let you know that she loved you and missed you."

"She's fine, just dealing with... what happened," Elsa said, managing a tired smile of her own. "She's looking forward to being home tomorrow."

Despite her eyes becoming wet with unshed tears, Hilde kept her smile on her face. "As am I," she replied honestly. "I miss my wife when her work takes her away, but I'm proud of her."

"And I know she feels the same about you," Elsa replied. "Could we please have some dinner brought to my study upstairs? We have a great deal we need to discuss."

"Of course, Your Majesty."

"Oh, and Hilde?" Elsa spoke quickly, catching the friendly blonde in mid-turn. When Hilde spun once more to look at her Queens, Elsa smiled. "Thank you. For everything you do."

Hilde blinked twice. "Of... Of course, Your Majesty."

Though the smile stayed on Elsa's face, other emotions swirled in her bright blue eyes. "We just... don't tell you enough. We don't tell any of you enough." Elsa blinked a few times, and the frosty tears that slipped out and slithered down her cheeks were unmistakable. She closed her eyes for several seconds, finally reopening them. "We'll be in Anna's study until dinner is ready. Please come get us yourself when it's time."

"Y-yes, Your Majesty," Hilde replied, momentarily dumbfounded. She stood still as the six women made their way past her, the other four less visibly upset than her Queens, but there was a definite pall surrounding them. _What in the name of the gods could have afflicted them so?_ thought Hilde.

—O—

As the door to the modest study connected to Anna's office upstairs closed, the six women looked at each other briefly before moving to the sturdy wooden table and the chairs surrounding it. It was surprisingly plain but well over a hundred years old, its dark staining occasionally marred by nicks and small gouges but still possessing a weighty gravity to it.

As the six of them took their seats, Anna and Elsa found it difficult to tear their eyes away from the safe, neutral surface of the table. Neither wanted to be the cause of the other crying again after what they had seen that day. Finally Anna stood up and unbuckled her belt, placing it and the shield and sword attached to it in a leather chair positioned next to the wall. Then she walked back over to the table, pulled her chair out and moved it next to the wall, and finally settled on Elsa's lap, placing her head on Elsa's shoulder.

"Anna, Elsa..." Rose began, hesitantly. "We're so sorry for what happened to your people."

"All of them," Anna mumbled weakly. " _All_ of them. Even..."

"Shhhh," Elsa said, trying to comfort herself as much as Anna as she held her mate tightly, placing soft kisses on Anna's coppery head of hair. She could still taste the bile at the back of her throat, despite both her and Anna rinsing their mouths with snow after they had finally stopped vomiting. Only Anna's constant presence for the last few hours had kept her magic from running wild, so frenzied were her emotions. "We've freed their souls now, and we're returned their bodies to Arendelle itself," she managed to say, her voice wet with sorrow. "That much we were able to grant them."

"This ritualist, whomever he or she may be, is quite clever," Maleficent finally said, a note of begrudging respect audible in her words. "Holding the Vile Codex for this many years is quite extraordinary. It tends to burn through its readers quite rapidly."

"How do you know it's the same person who stole it from the faeries?" asked Lexa, her face the coolly neutral visage she wore so well when calmly discussing matters with those she considered friendly peers. Around those she considered unfriendly peers, she didn't use nearly as much self-control.

"Only someone who had studied the Codex for years could have designed and executed—"

Maleficent stopped short, looking over to Elsa and Anna. "My apologies," she said calmly, lowering her voice in a show of respect to her friends. "Not the most considerate choice of words on my part, I must admit."

"No harm intended, Maleficent," Elsa replied, giving her friend the best smile she could manage at the time. "And no offense taken."

"That goes for me too," Anna added. "And I'm sorry for being a big baby. Just..." She sighed. "Seeing those children, and what he—or she—did to them, it just..."

"It made me think of our daughters too, my heart," Elsa said soothingly. "And there's no armor which can protect from a sight like that."

The sound of wood grating against stone drew everyone's attention to Rose standing from her seat. She calmly walked around the table to where Anna and Elsa sat, then she bent over and carefully wrapped her arms around both of them.

No one spoke for several minutes, with just the sound of soft crying and sniffing occasionally audible. Finally Rose stood upright, reaching out and taking Elsa's right hand with her left and Anna's left hand with her right. "Anna," Rose said. "Elsa. Mal and I do what we do to prevent things like what we saw today from happening. And when we can't prevent it, we do our best to put down the monsters responsible... permanently."

She smiled, and though it was warm and friendly, there was an undeniable sadness behind it as well. "I've done this for decades," Rose said, her words seemingly at odds with her youthful appearance. "And Mal's got considerably more experience than me. But things like what we saw today, well... It still bothers us, too. We're just better at hiding it."

Beneath the table, Clarke was squeezing Lexa's hand so hard that Lexa expected at least one of them would have bruises in the morning. Lexa knew this conversation about what they had found inside the center of the ritual circle was dredging up heavy, bitter memories of what Clarke did inside Mt. Weather, what Lexa had practically _forced_ her to do by breaking their alliance. But despite the horrific nature of what went on inside that living tomb, there was still a world of difference between what Clarke had done as a terrible last resort and what this evil sorcerer had done.

Lexa leaned over and placed a lingering, gentle but clear kiss on Clarke's temple. The public display of affection was so out of character for Lexa that Clarke turned and stared at her as if she had grown a second head. Lexa felt her heart break slightly at the redness of her mate's eyes, at the anguish that was still all-too-fresh, even nearly a year after what happened inside Mount Weather. She lifted Clarke's right hand to her lips and placed a gentle kiss across the knuckles before she spoke.

"We have all done terrible things, Clarke," Lexa said, trying to keep her voice calm but allowing the very real emotions she felt to seep into her speech. "But what you did to the _Maunon-de_... You had no choice in that." Tears trickled down Lexa's cheeks as she stopped fighting her emotions for control. " _I_ left you no choice in that." She blinked the tears away, hating the way the heavy drops made her eyelashes feel heavy and ponderous but wanting to show Clarke that she could allow herself to be emotional, to be vulnerable, for her and her alone.

Elsa met Maleficent's glance across the table; Maleficent and Rose had not yet arrived at the castle when Clarke and Lexa had had that particular conversation with her and Anna. Anna saw the communicative glance between her wife and their friend, so when the subtle touch against her mind brushed her thoughts, she immediately opened her thoughts to Maleficent, letting the faerie quickly share her and Elsa's memories of that conversation as well as to link them to Rose as well.

After a few minutes, Maleficent cleared her throat, drawing Clarke's and Lexa's attention toward her. For long seconds she simply held Clarke's gaze, her expression stoically neutral.

"What you did, Clarke of the Thirteen Clans, was indeed terrible," Maleficent said calmly. "But it was done to both save your people _and_ to bring an end to decades of atrocity and predation perpetrated by the people beneath the mountain. Their children of yesterday had grown up to become the killers and butchers of today, and the same cycle would have occurred over and over again had you not taken the actions you did."

"Not all of them were like that," Clarke argued, her voice hoarse and thick. "Maya was—"

"The dark-haired girl was an exception," Maleficent spoke sharply, cutting Clarke off. "And an exceedingly rare one, at that. Her life being lost was a tragedy inside a tragedy, but she understood. She _accepted_ it, as payment for her having been an accomplice to the abduction and butchery of those outside."

A rare compassionate smile spread across Maleficent's lips. Despite what had been said or written of her over the years, it wasn't that the imposing faerie was heartless, far from it; it was just that she had little tolerance for fools, liars or thieves, and most of her interactions with humanity over her lifetime had involved some combination of the three. "Similarly, Clarke, _you_ accepted the burden of living with the decision you made, so that those whom you cared about would not have to bear that terrible weight themselves," she said.

Clarke wiped her nose with the sleeve of her shirt, eyes burning with tears both shed and unshed but unable to look away from the faerie's intense green gaze. She felt Lexa squeeze her hands with both of her own, and Clarke hungrily drew as much strength and support from her partner as she could.

Maleficent glanced to her left, to Elsa and Anna, then to her right, to Briar Rose. "It is not our place to judge you for what you did, Clarke of the Thirteen Clans. Nor is it our place to forgive you or offer you absolution. Such is beyond even our capabilities." Then she leaned forward ever so slightly, but it felt like the very air itself grew still and silent as it waited for her to speak once more.

"But I _can_ assure you that what you did in the depths of that slaughterhouse, no matter how grim or gruesome, was _leagues_ apart from what atrocities were committed upon those poor Arendellans in the icy wastes north of here."

Clarke looked like she was about to completely break down, and only Lexa's strong arms wrapping around her kept the blonde from completely sliding out of her seat and onto the floor when her body's wracked with sobs hard enough to shake both of them.

Maleficent continues, raising her voice (and possibly using a touch of magic) to make sure Clarke hears her. "Clarke, you did not torture those people for hours, brutally prolonging their suffering while the others watched, bleeding them dry as part of an unholy ritual that completely subverted life, nature and magic itself. What you did to those beneath the mountain killed them quickly, and you only did it because there were no other options left to you. It was not anything good, not at all, but it was certainly not the depths of evil either."

Lexa lifted Clarke enough to slide her mate onto her lap, where she held Clarke to her body, guiding the blonde's head against her neck to let her cry in a modicum of peace. She took a few long moments to gather her own composure once more, as she knew her own feelings had been flayed raw over the last few minutes as well. Finally, when she felt she could trust her voice once more, she looked to Maleficent.

"Thank you," Lexa said, her own bright green eyes blinking away tears. "Thank you for telling my _houmon_ this. She needed to hear it, to banish the dark thoughts that have been brought forth today back to the past where they belong."

"She will never be entirely free of them," Maleficent said, her voice quiet once more.

Lexa nodded once, careful to not bump Clarke's head while doing so. "I know," she said, her throat tightening again despite her best efforts. "And neither will I."

Maleficent smiled, this one obvious in its sadness. "None of us ever can be," she said, reaching for Rose's hand and grasping it tightly as the blonde offered it to her. Beside her, Anna's right hand found its way into Elsa's left, with Anna gently rubbing the icy wedding ring on Elsa's finger. "But we have all been fortunate enough to find someone who loves us regardless."

"Yes," Lexa whispered, to herself more than the others. "And now we find ourselves needing to deal not only with this sorcerer, but with a reborn Nia as well, now empowered with dark magic of her own."

"It's not _true_ magic," Rose spoke, her right index finger tracing a vague line through the air in front of her. "Not like Maleficent or Elsa and Anna have. It's more like... the empowered faith of her followers, bound to her by that horrifying rite they carried out. But the sheer power harvested from all those lives sacrificed was staggering, and in your world, where magic itself is weaker, the power this Nia now possesses will retain its potency, making it even more dangerous."

Lexa fell silent as she considered all that Nia had accomplished with her intelligence, her scheming, her iron-clad rule over her people. She had threatened not just Lexa but the very alliance of clans itself more than once, and now she had a pet wizard _and_ eldritch powers of her own.

"Nia must be slain," Lexa said, her voice cold and hard as iron.

"And her sorcerer," added Anna, her own voice uncharacteristically cold. "For what they've already done here, and what they're going to do to your world."

Elsa looked at Anna, staring deeply into Anna's blue-green eyes for several seconds before she turned to Lexa. "Arendelle will honor our alliance with the Thirteen Clans," Elsa said, feeling Anna squeeze her hand in silent support that would always be there.

"We're coming with you."

—O—

 **Author's Afterword:** So this chapter took forever to get up. Hopefully the next one will come out more expediently. But now we're about to switch worlds again, and I am most definitely looking forward to the change. I have SO MUCH planned for this longer stretch of the story, and it's burning my mind to get it all out there.

Hope you've enjoyed this chapter, and I'll see you soon!


	9. Chapter 9: Through the Looking Glass

**Author's Note:** Well, this chapter came together faster than expected. Hope everyone is holding on through tough times across the world. Thank you for reading, and welcome back!

Cover Art for the story is from the LexaRecovery tumblr. Stay strong together.

 _I do not own the television show "The 100" or make any claims upon it or its characters. Similarly, I do not own Frozen, its characters or any Disney characters or property. All these characters are used under the concept of Fair Use, and I make no profit or income from using any of them._

 **Our Fight Is Not Over**

by Jo K.

Chapter 9: Through the Looking Glass

 _I been to the edge_

 _There I stood and looked down_

 _I lost a lot of friends there baby_

 _I got no time to mess around_

-Van Halen, "Ain't Talkin' 'Bout Love"

—O—

The tension permeating the air was nearly unbearable, despite the sheer beauty of the scene around them. Birds painted with primary colors flew through the trees around them, various hues of red, blue and yellow predominating but with intruders of greens, purples and grays flying to and fro through the high branches of the hardwood trees.

Octavia shifted nervously, silently swearing at herself for the obvious show of anxiety. She summoned the willpower to keep from looking up, as she knew she'd have to meet Indra's burning glare if she gave in to that momentary weakness.

The knowledge that there were thirty Trikru warriors in the immediate area was reassuring; even with the technological superiority of the Skaikru guns, the Trikru fighters had been spread out and camouflaged so thoroughly that they should still be able to exact a steep price in blood should this talk go poorly.

Footsteps through the evergreen needles and sparse ground foliage finally drew Octavia's attention. She unconsciously rested her left hand on the hilt of the sword sheathed at her left hip as she stood straighter. Watching the small group of Trikru lead the outsiders into the small glade made her heart pick up speed as any conflict would; the unexpected presence of her brother, however, was notably unsettling, although she told herself she wasn't going to let it rattle her.

"Octavia!" said Abby Griffin, an uncharacteristic smile spreading across her face. "I didn't recognize you until just now!"

Octavia smiled slightly. She might not have always gotten along with Clarke's mother, but she knew more than most that mothers could do odd things when it came to their kids. "I'm glad you're okay, Dr. Griffin," Octavia said, meaning each word.

The hand extended to her by Marcus Kane, though, made her pause briefly. Octavia looked up into his eyes, seeing an honest openness in his expression. She took his hand as a Trikru warrior would, a bit surprised when he returned the clasp the same way.

"It's good to see you again, Octavia," Kane said, with a smile that appeared genuine to the small brunette.

Octavia had never known her father. She had never been looking for a father. Bellamy had always filled the role of her protector growing up, as strained as that relationship was now (and it was). But as she realized how it actually felt _good_ for Marcus Kane to express genuine interest in her well-being and show her honest respect, Octavia considered that maybe she _did_ have some lingering father issues.

It would be something to talk to Clarke about, when she and Heda returned from whatever secret mission they had undertaken two weeks ago. Until then, Octavia had her own job to do.

"It's nice to see you again as well, Marcus," Octavia said, finally releasing him from the arm clasp that had gone on several seconds. "I'm glad you and Abby are alive."

There was an awkward pause before Abby stepped forward.

"Lincoln is alive," Abby said, her voice with the softness of a mother in it now. "Jackson and Monroe and I have checked on him and the other Grounders in the brig daily."

Octavia blinked against the moisture suddenly building in her eyes. "Th-thank you," she choked out, swallowing her tears as best as she could. "Tell him... Tell him I love him, okay?"

Abby nodded, as did Marcus. "We will," Abby said with a voice just above a whisper.

Octavia nodded, taking a moment to regain her composure. Through this exchange, Indra remained silent, and Octavia resisted turning to see just what expression her teacher would be wearing. Whatever it was, she probably wouldn't like it. "So," Octavia said, after she could trust her voice again. "I figured Pike would be the one to come out and threaten us about this blockade." With a more grim smile, she added, "Or try to kill us over it, maybe. Which is why it was a nice surprise to see the two of you."

"There's been more than enough blood spilled between Skaikru and Trikru," Marcus said flatly. "Although Charles said it would have been a 'tactical mistake' for him to come himself."

"Oh, so he didn't want to give us the chance to murder him like he did the warriors Heda sent to guard all of you, huh?" Octavia replied sharply; she allowed herself a brief satisfaction at seeing the wince of pain flash across both the Arkadians' faces.

"Abby and I felt it was best for just the two of us to come meet you," Marcus said, refusing to inflame tensions further. "Unarmed."

"A foolish action," Indra snapped, meeting and holding Kane's gaze for several seconds before she spoke again. "But one that required courage, and belief in others." She nodded once to Marcus. "Heda has often spoken highly of you and your dedication to peace between our clans, Markus Kane kom Skaikru. You also bear the brand of the Clans. Once again, you show that there truly is hope for our peoples to live together." She continued to stare into Kane's eyes for several moments longer, considering that had he been born on the ground, he might have made a worthy Heda himself.

"Is... Is Clarke doing well?"

Indra and Octavia both turned to look back to Abby, before they then looked toward each other. From the stern look on Indra's face, Octavia knew that her teacher certainly wasn't going to discuss the bonding of Clarke and Lexa. That was a hornet's nest that Octavia wanted no part of kicking, either.

"She is," Octavia finally said. "Wan— Clarke will eventually be here to resolve this situation herself."

It was amusing, in a way, observing the polar opposite effect that statement had on the two people standing in front of Octavia. For Kane, the expression crossing his face was that of relief; for Abby, it was worry, if not outright trepidation.

"I think Clarke _would_ have the best chance of resolving this situation with the least amount of bloodshed," Kane finally said, after a few moments of consideration. "I'm assuming this... blockade is in response to the murder of the Trikru stationed outside Arkardia?"

Octavia pushed aside any humanizing thoughts or memories at that statement. "Absolutely that's what this is about," she said, her voice terse. "Heda sent three hundred Trikru to protect Arkardia, and Pike killed them in their sleep."

"Not all of them," Kane clarified, looking briefly at Indra and getting an angry glare for his efforts.

"Your 'mercy' was neither wanted nor appreciated," Indra said, shifting her gaze to glower at Bellamy where he stood behind Kane and Abby. "But I am a warrior, and I serve my Heda and protect my _sekon_ until death," she said, lifting her chin up in a clear show of defiance.

Kane nodded. "What Charles did was unthinkable," he said quietly. "Unforgivable. But he remains Chancellor of Arkardia. Another vote can't be called for two months."

Octavia met Kane's eyes and refused to look away. "Charles Pike is a mass murderer," she growled. "And all those who participated in those murders—" she looked directly at Bellamy here "—are accomplices. They will face justice for their crimes." She looked again at Abby, then back at Marcus.

"Heda is giving Arkadia the opportunity to police the actions of its own citizens. Should that fail, then, she _will_ take the matter of justice into her own hands."

Silence fell through the glade. As Abby looked at the young woman standing before her, she was struck at how much Octavia had grown since she had been on the ground. Just like Clarke. Whether they had grown for better or for worse was unimportant. They had learned, and they had survived. THAT was what was important.

"So what exactly are the terms of this blockade?" Abby finally asked.

Octavia sighed, more from tense nerves than from frustration or fatigue. "The perimeter has been marked, five miles in all directions from Arkadia. Skaikru are not to go beyond this limit, or they'll be killed. This blockade will remain in place until Charles Pike and those who assisted him in the murder of the Trikru have either been turned over to the Trikru, for punishment to be decided by Heda, or punished in a manner acceptable to Heda."

"So they wouldn't necessarily have to face a death penalty," Kane spoke aloud.

Octavia looked back at him. "Their punishment will be determined by Heda."

"So why isn't she here?" asked Abby.

Indra bristled at the implication. "Why isn't _your_ Chancellor here?" she sneered.

Abby opened her mouth to reply, only to be stopped by Kane's raised hand in front of her.

"Indra has a point," Kane said calmly. "Pike's worried about being killed, the same way he killed the Trikru warriors."

"Well, that _would_ require us to sneak up on him and kill him in his sleep," Octavia pointed out, a bit snidely. Seeing Marcus's and Abby's eyes both jump to meet hers, she added, "Not that I'd have a problem with that. Not at this point."

"Yes, well..." Marcus finally said. "His concerns are valid."

"So he sent the two of you because he considers you both expendable," Octavia said. "Interesting. No offense, Marcus, Abby."

"None taken," Marcus said quickly. "I _am_ Charles' most vocal critic, and Abby is a close second."

"I didn't think he'd be willing to sacrifice a doctor, though," Octavia said thoughtfully.

"Jackson's very good," said Abby, a smile finally gracing her face. The lines seemed to be more prominent than usual, likely from a combination of not eating enough and constant stress. "I guess I'm no longer indispensable."

"Well, that's bullshit."

Abby looked back down, from where she had looked up into the trees at the birds flying back and forth.

"Healers are worth their weight in food," Octavia said flatly. "If not more so. If he's willing to throw your life away because he's scared of getting what he deserves, then he's even more dangerous to everyone than we realize."

Abby sighed. "Charles is Chancellor, so we have to follow his directions until someone else takes the position."

Octavia nodded. She hadn't looked at Bellamy since the trio first arrived, and she wasn't about to start now, even with her brother shifting uncomfortably where he stood behind Marcus and Abby. "As long as Skaikru stays within the blockade, no one will come to any harm, except in the case of Trikru defending themselves against an attack."

"And if someone accidentally crosses the boundary?" Abby asked.

Octavia gave her a smile that was clearly facetious. "I'm pretty sure no one is going to 'accidentally' cross the blockade, Abby. But in the case that someone does, then they'll be given a chance to go back. If they refuse, then they'll be killed."

"Just like that?" Abby asked, her voice clipped.

"Just like that." Seeing the disappointment on Abby's face, Octavia sighed. "Abby, there are three hundred Trikru dead. Killed in their sleep, for most of them. And does Pike show any kind of remorse for it?"

Abby looked down at the loose leaves and needles scattered on the ground. "No, he doesn't," she finally said.

Octavia made herself keep in the words that were boiling over inside her, screaming to be released, until the silence had gone well beyond awkward. Finally she spoke. "Pike isn't going to stop," she said softly.

"...No," Abby quietly replied. "He's not. No matter how many people he kills, whether it's Trikru or Arkadians."

For the first time since they had started talking, a look of surprise flashed across Octavia's face, followed by anger. "Yeah, I was there when he sent the team to force that village to move. Tried to warn them, for all the good that did. Poor Monroe." She remembered the caustic yellow cloud that had engulfed the short redhead when Bellamy led his team into that ambush.

"It was close," Abby said. "Technically, she did die. A few times. But she pulled through. I'm not sure just how extensive the permanent damage to her lungs could be, but she's now working as a nurse with Jackson and me. Her breathing isn't good enough to go back to combat or being a guard. It probably never will be."

Octavia nodded. "She was always good to me, up in the Skybox and then later down here. I was never 'the girl under the floor' to her. I was just Octavia."

For a moment, Abby let herself think of how young Octavia really was. How young all of them were.

Too young to be sent to die. Too young to survive on a hostile world. But they had survived, most of them, and now the people of Arkadia would always have to live with the consequences of the terrible decision the Council had made about The 100 nearly a year ago.

"She's with Harper now," Abby finally said, not even realizing that she smiled slightly at the thought. "They're living together, outside of Arkadia."

"Harper, huh?" asked Octavia, smiling like she knew something she wasn't revealing. "I bet that surprised some people."

"It did me," replied Abby, the smile still on her lips. "I had no idea, not until she moved into Medical and refused to leave while Monroe was on the ventilator. She made it quite clear to me then that she wasn't going to leave the woman she loved."

Octavia glanced at Indra briefly, seeing a look of curiosity on her teacher's face. She turned back to Abby. "You know, they... talk about her," she said softly. "About Harper."

Now it was Abby's turn to look surprised. "No, I didn't know," she answered. She turned to Kane. "Have you heard about that, Marcus?"

Kane shook his head. "No, but none of us have had much contact with the Gr— with the other Clans since Charles became openly hostile to them."

"Yeah, I imagine," Octavia muttered, her eyes trying to glance to Bellamy, but she forced her gaze to sweep over him without stopping. "I'm not sure how comfortable I am talking about this with _him_ here," Octavia said, quickly and briefly pointing to Bellamy.

"Just because you refuse to see the danger these people pose—"

"Shut up, Bellamy!" Octavia snapped at him, her hand reflexively going to the dagger sheathed at her side in a way that would bother when she thought back upon it, hours later. "'These people' are _my_ people now! They fucking _accepted_ me, something the Ark never did!"

Bellamy refused to back down from Octavia's dark glare, matching it with one of his own. "I accepted you!"

"On YOUR TERMS!" Octavia shouted back. "It was _always_ on your terms! You were the big brother, always looking out for the dumb little sister who didn't know enough to stay out of trouble, because you and Mom kept me locked _underneath the fucking floor!"_

Bellamy surged forward, completely missing the sudden tightening of hands around weapons among the Trikru contingent. "It was for your own good!" he barked at Octavia, moving until he was just inches away from her, looming over her.

Octavia leaned forward, looking up at him defiantly as she refused to flinch. "If you touch me," she said, her voice low and dangerous, "You'll die right here."

Bellamy's dark eyes were stormy as he stared down at his little sister, who appeared to not be intimidated in the least.

"I'm not Clarke," Octavia whispered. "I'm not going to go easy on you because I try to find the good in everyone." I'm not going to pretend like you haven't been acting like a total fucking _idiot_ for months!" She glared up at him, and it took a considerable of willpower on _Bellamy's_ part to not back away from the anger in her gray-green eyes. " _Your_ people killed _my_ people. That's what it comes down to. When Clarke tried to get you to see reason, you tried to fucking _chain her up_ so you could hand her to Pike like some goddamn animal you'd caught in a trap!"

Now Bellamy sighed and visibly backed away, before turning and walking past Marcus and Abby.

" _Let him go,"_ Octavia said in Trigedasleng to the Trikru gathered in a perimeter around them, _"but make sure he goes back to Arkadia and arrives unharmed... unless he does something stupid."_

As Bellamy's back grew smaller and smaller as he walked away, Abby finally spoke. "We don't want any more bloodshed, Octavia," she said, her voice weary.

"Well, there's going to be," replied Octavia calmly. "But thanks to Heda and Wa—Clarke, we can at least try to keep the bloodshed to an absolute minimum."

"Some of them have seen what a terrible mistake they've made," Abby spoke after a brief lull. "Monroe in particular."

Octavia nodded. "Yeah, dying does tend to clear things up, I'd imagine."

"Jackson and I have talked about trying to set up some formal therapy sessions for her, Harper, Monty and Nathan, but there's just no time," Abby sighed. "Not for any of us."

"Charles actually threatened Harper a few weeks ago," Marcus said quietly, sighing when he saw the anger flash across Octavia's face. "He implied that he'd tell the Trikru in the woods around where Harper and Monroe are living that Monroe was part of the raiding party that killed the Trikru guards."

There was a prolonged pause, and for the first time that Marcus could remember, he saw moisture start to gather in Octavia's bright eyes.

"They already know," Octavia whispered, her voice hoarse. She smiled sadly as she looked at Marcus. "They've always known."

—O—

"Anna, I think we've packed everything we could possibly carry," Elsa said, her tone of voice more teasing than serious as Anna inspected the saddlebags and gear secured to the hoarfrost-covered horses she and Elsa would be riding into Clarke's and Lexa's world.

"Well, it's a lot better to be too prepared than not be prepared enough!" Anna said, her customary twin red braids swaying slightly as she tugged on a packroll's strap, making sure it was secure. The large icy steed carrying the harness and attached gear snorted pleasantly, an action that would have been entirely expected from a living, breathing equine interacting with its master. A few flakes of frost broke free and floated away when Anna patted the beast's shoulder affectionately.

Elsa quickly crossing the brief distance between her and her wife drew everyone's attention, though; even Anna stopped in mid-motion when Elsa's slim fingers gently played across Anna's freckle-dusted face. "Who are you," Elsa asked playfully, "and what have you done with my wife?"

Anna laughed, then she gently grasped and kissed each of Elsa's fingertips. "I just want us to be prepared, my love, especially if magic _is_ weaker over there."

"You're definitely going to want a visible weapon of some sort, Your Majesty," Lexa said politely, gesturing at Elsa and the elegant ice lace gown she wore. "Anyone, man or woman, traveling without an obvious means of protection would be immediately marked as a potential victim." Anticipating Elsa's and Anna's next words, Lexa added, "And while I'm sure you'd remain capable of protecting yourself, having to repeatedly deal with opportunistic fools would likely slow our travel time."

Anna met Elsa's blue eyes. "That's a good point."

Elsa sighed. "You know I don't like weapons, Anna," she argued.

"I know," replied Anna, taking Elsa's hands in her own. "But it _is_ a different world, Elsa. It's harsher, more violent, and if displaying a visible means of defending yourself will make things go more smoothly while we're over there, then isn't it a relatively small annoyance to bear?"

Elsa looked proudly into Anna's green-blue eyes, brilliant in the morning sunlight. "Since when did you get so smart?" she asked softly.

"The same time I got so gorgeous."

Elsa laughed once. "Well, you've always been beautiful, but I seem to recall you only got this smart once you married me."

Anna smiled happily. "Busted," she said quietly, leaning forward to kiss Elsa's lips tenderly. As she stepped back, Elsa moved her hands to her waist. Sparkles of silver and frost danced from her fingertips, gathering at her left side as they shaped themselves into a long, slender shape.

Anna leaned forward, placing a kiss on Elsa's cheek as the magic continued to work. "Is that what I think it is?" Anna asked softly, admiring Elsa's beauty as the blonde kept her eyes closed, focusing on her work.

"It is," Elsa replied quietly, smiling as she worked. A few years ago, Elsa had taken lessons on fencing and sword-fighting at Anna's insistence. She had quickly replaced the metal foils and rapiers with a long, slim rapier made of her magical ice, as she could sharpen, blunt or adjust its blade as needed. She had dutifully trained for several months, never approaching Anna's level of skill with blades but becoming reasonably competent. She had never trained further, other than a few practice bouts with Anna, but her familiarity with the icy sword had remained.

"Excellent choice," Anna answered, placing another kiss on Elsa's cheek and letting her lips linger on Elsa's fair skin at the corner of her mouth.

As the frost and glittering crystals vanished, a partially translucent white rapier had formed at Elsa's waist. The hilt and frosted handguard flowed and swirled in an organic manner very similar to that of Anna's icy crown, with the sword's slim blade sheathed into the white scabbard that had formed at Elsa's waist, complete with sparkling white belt.

"I love that sword," Anna said happily, taking Elsa's hands in her own once again.

"So do I," replied Elsa, who looked up to meet Anna's teal eyes. "Although it's not my _favorite_ sword," she added lightly.

"It's not?" asked Anna, her nose scrunching in a very cute manner as she thought.

"Nope." Elsa shook her head slightly.

"Huh. Mine, then?"

Elsa shook her head again. "No, but you're getting closer."

Now Anna truly did look puzzled, and the expression on her mate's face was so utterly adorable that Elsa felt her heart beam with joy.

Elsa smiled as she leaned forward, touching the tip of her nose to Anna's. "YOU are my favorite sword, Anna."

Anna grinned, all those around them forgotten now. "Oh, so now I've been reduced to a tool, have I?" she teased.

"Oh, you're so much more than that, my heart," Elsa murmured as she and Anna kept staring into each other's eyes. "Always with me, always protecting me, always making me feel safe no matter where we are. Always beautiful, always dangerous, always ready to defend our family."

Anna's smile stretched across her mouth. "Well, when you put it like _that..."_ she said, her words trailing off as she pressed her lips against Elsa's.

A loud sigh from beside them drew the attention of everyone but Arendelle's Queens.

"You know it's going to take all day to leave if you plan on waiting for them," said the thin blonde Erin, standing beside her twin sister Elin, close enough that the fabric of their sheer white gowns brushed against each other in the mild breeze. "They don't do short goodbyes."

Nodding in agreement with her sister, Elin stepped forward, hugging both of her mothers at the same time. "Be careful, Mothers," Elin said, smiling when she received a gentle caress on her cheek from Elsa and a kiss to her forehead from Anna. As smoothly as if they had rehearsed it many times, Elin stepped back while Erin stepped forward, taking her twin's place at wishing their mothers good journey.

"You two take good care of Arendelle while we're away," Anna said. "It might be a few weeks, so learn as much as you can from Hilde and Arista!"

"We have faith in you," added Elsa, smiling proudly as she looked at their oldest girls, growing into young women before their eyes.

Little footsteps padded forward in the snow, followed by little Kari throwing her arms around Elsa's legs. "Don't be gone too long," the seven-year-old mumbled, trying not to cry, because princesses and queens had to put on brave faces even when they wanted to cry.

"We'll be back as soon as we possibly can, snowgirl," Anna said, kissing Kari's cinnamon hair as she and Elsa hugged the youngest princess of Arendelle. "You behave. Don't cause any trouble for your big sisters or for Jora or Hilde."

Kari looked up at Anna, her blue-green eyes and copper hair almost identical to her younger mother at that age. "I'll be good," the young girl reluctantly promised. "Even if I don't like it all the time."

"If you behave, then maybe Arista will take you sailing some days," Elsa suggested, hoping that their friend didn't get too offended at the promise.

"It would be my pleasure, Your Highness," said the athletic blonde, bundled up with a thicker coat and pants than the others standing around. "She already takes to the sea like a little mermaid," said the blonde, sharing a quick wink with her two Queens.

Elsa gave Kari's back another pat, then she stood up. She looked to Elin and Erin. "You two will have to restore the barrier on this side once we pass through. Maleficent and Rose can show you how, once we've crossed to the other world."

"We'll be fine, mothers," Elin said, a hint of an aggrieved huff in her voice.

"We will, really," added Erin.

As Elsa and Anna both climbed onto their icy steeds, Lexa and Clarke moved their own horses closer to them. Ahead of them, the shining, swirling light of the interdimensional portal flowed as it stood perpendicular to the ground.

"I'm a bit surprised you're not taking one of your dragons," Clarke said to Anna as the redhead moved her icy equine beside Clarke's sorrel flesh-and-blood steed.

"Eh, done it before," Anna said off-handedly. "Also the portal's too small. Plus not drawing more attention than necessary is probably a good idea, like Lexa had suggested. Especially until we get our bearings as to where we are once we come out of that portal."

"I assure you, we're quite prepared," Elsa said with a friendly smile as she guided her icy mount up to the others. "It's neither Anna's nor my first time doing this sort of thing, although we _are_ traveling a bit farther from home than usual this time."

Anna looked at Elsa curiously, something Clarke noticed, so she was sure Lexa noticed it as well. It was like Anna had something she wanted to say but was resisting the urge to say it. As Clarke pondered that, she saw Elsa meet Anna's gaze and hold it for several seconds. The two mates seemed to communicate silently for a few seconds, finally culminating in Elsa reaching out and taking Anna's left hand, then Anna lifting their clasped hands to her mouth and gently kissing Elsa's knuckles. "We'll deal with it together," Anna said with a voice just above a whisper, and it was obvious that whatever she was referring to was a matter kept between the two of them.

Elsa nodded, then she carefully dabbed at her eyes with a shimmering cloth that seemed to appear from thin air. Likely because it had.

She looked down to Rose and Maleficent. "Thank you two again for all your help," Elsa said, reaching down to grasp first Rose's hand, then Maleficent's. "Hopefully you'll still be here when we get back, so we can catch you up on whatever happens."

"We fully plan on it," said Rose. "If something does call us away, then we'll be back as soon as we can. The Codex needs to be sealed away as soon as you return with it."

"Your kingdom will be safe while you journey," Maleficent said confidently. "Safe travels, Elsa, Anna." The tall faerie then turned to Lexa and Clarke. "Hopefully we shall meet again," Maleficent said, allowing a passably friendly smile to grace her red lips. "Best wishes on your quest, and on your future. Should you find the Vile Codex, limit your contact with it to a bare minimum, as its power to corrupt is both vast and insidious."

"We'll make sure that the book is returned to you for safekeeping," Lexa replied. "Hopefully with a sorcerer's severed head accompanying it."

—O—

"The Trikru already know that Zoe Monroe was part of the squad that murdered those warriors?!" Abby whispered frantically. "And they haven't killed her?"

Octavia looked around. Already the mood in the glade had become less tense, less oppressive since Bellamy had left. "I'm still learning all the details and nuances, but yeah, that's right. Part of it has to do with how the Clans deal with crimes. If you murder someone without just cause, then your punishment is to be killed in a slow, painful way."

Abby's lips pursed open slightly. "Which Monroe has already suffered," she said, hoping this was leading to what she was thinking. "She _did_ die. Several times, and in agony."

"Exactly," Octavia said, keeping her voice low. "As best as I can understand it, they're looking at Monroe the same way they look at those who used to be Reapers; they did terrible things, not entirely of their own free will, and they died as a result. With the Reapers, it was you and Clarke, Abby, who were able to bring some of them back, to restore them to a new life, so it shouldn't be so surprising that the Trikru consider you as having done the same with Monroe.

"But there _is_ something else when it comes to Monroe." Octavia sighed, then she looked down at the brown evergreen needles littering the forest floor before looking back up at Marcus and Abby. "Look, I'm going to trust telling the two of you this for two reasons. First, I know you're not going to use it to stir up trouble or for your own personal gain. And second, I really need _somebody_ else to talk to about this shit, because I'm still trying to wrap my head around it."

Octavia lowered herself to the ground, brushing a few pine cones aside before settling on the carpet of dry needles and leaves. She waited as Marcus and Abby did the same. Finally Octavia picked up a single brown pine needle, turning it over, back and forth, in her fingers.

"How well do you know Harper?" Octavia finally asked, looking first at Marcus, then to Abby.

"Not that well," admitted Marcus, "but from what she's shown us at Council meetings and from her performance as a city guard, she's dependable, she's smarter than people credit her for, and she wants peace. And she wants Charles gone."

"Because he threatens the peace between Arkadia and everyone else," Octavia asked, "or because he was responsible for what happened to Monroe?"

Marcus thought carefully before he replied. "Both are important, but I couldn't tell you which one was more important to Harper."

"I... actually got to know Harper fairly well," Abby said softly. "While Monroe was on the ventilator, and we weren't sure if she was going to survive those next few days. Harper refused to leave her except to go to the bathroom or get food, which she would always bring back to sickbay to eat, so she could be there in case Monroe woke up." Abby glanced up at Octavia. "Or in case she didn't," Abby softly added.

"Then after that, she and I talked. At first, it was almost like I had Clarke back," Abby said, slightly embarrassed at confessing this. "But that was just foolish, wishful thinking on my part. Harper isn't Clarke, obviously, but they both have this hard-won maturity that makes me want to compliment them or cry for them. Sometimes both at the same time."

Octavia looked directly into Abby's eyes. "You know what the _maun-de_ were doing inside that mountain," she said, a statement, not a question. "You saw what they did to the Grounders they captured, men, women, children."

"I don't remember seeing any children in there," Abby said, surprised.

"Because they drained them fast," Octavia said slowly. "The prisoners tended to be more resistant, to fight harder when kids were present, so that bitch Singh had standing orders that any children captured were to be kept out of the regular cages and bled dry first. It sounds like she had some theories about their blood cells maybe having more healing potential than that of the adults, but no one really knows."

Octavia glanced at Indra, then back to Marcus and Abby. "How many Grounders would you guess they killed a week?" she asked, her tone of voice sharp.

"I... I have no idea," Abby said. Marcus shook his head, indicating his own ignorance as well as lack of interest in offering wild guesses on this subject.

"It was usually about five to ten a week, from what the Trikru rescued from _Maunon_ were able to tell us," Octavia said. "But that went up once we started interacting with them, inflicting damage on them, sabotaging their systems. At one point, they drained fourteen prisoners in a _single day_."

"What kind of..." whispered Abby, only to be cut off by Octavia's sharp gaze.

"But then they realized that not only did the 100 make better sacrificial lambs, but they could drain our bone marrow and use it to perform transplants on themselves, to give them the ability to filter out the lethal radiation long-term. So they started 'harvesting' bone marrow from the captured 100, willingly if possible but happy to use force if necessary."

Marcus closed his eyes. "We had heard," he said, nodding. "Nathan Miller and Monty Green were the most open speaking about what they went through. And they all said that Harper gave more than any of them."

Octavia nodded. "You'd have to ask Harper for the exact reasons she was willing to die in there, but hearing about her and Monroe makes me wonder if she thought Monroe was dead, and there was nothing left to live for."

Abby nodded. "Considering how devastated she was when they brought Monroe in after the poison gas, I could certainly see that."

Octavia tossed the broken pine needle to the side. At some point she had bent it too far, and now it would never be the same. "The prisoners kept by the _maun-de_ all commented on two things about Harper after they were rescued," she said, choosing her words carefully. "First, she never stopped letting the _maun-de_ drain her blood or harvest her bone marrow. Several times the prisoners thought she had died, wheeled out on the stretcher completely pale and limp, only for her to be back hours later, sacrificing her blood and body again."

Octavia sighed, not entirely trusting her emotions to remain under control as she remembered the quiet, pretty girl who had been her friend in the Skybox, whose eyes were always quick to light up with mischief or delight. "Second, she screamed every time."

Abby closed her eyes in sympathy for the young woman who was just eighteen months younger than Clarke, a young woman who had known sorrow and loss on the Ark and found much more of the same on the ground.

"Abby, do you know how many Grounders died in _Maunon_ once Harper started constantly volunteering to be bled?"

Abby opened her eyes, ignoring the tears that rolled down her cheeks. "H-how many?" she managed to ask; the feel of Marcus's hand gently grasping her right hand barely registered to her at the moment.

Octavia smiled, her upper lip also wet with tears. _"None,"_ she said. She leaned forward, smiling despite the bittersweet tears. "She saved them, Abby. She was willing to die for them, for people she had never met, just because they deserved better. She never fought the people bleeding her dry. She never asked for anything in return. She never begged for mercy. She just kept coming back, kept suffering, kept going past all limits of her own body and common sense."

All was quite for a few minutes, save for the gentle rustling of pine needles and the soft blowing of the wind.

"When you say the Trikru... _talk_ about Harper..." Marcus finally asked.

Octavia looked directly at him. She wasn't going to comment on him still holding Abby's hand. It really was none of her business. "I mean, she's become something like their version of Jesus," Octavia replied, her voice serious. "And if Pike ever hurts her or hurts Monroe, because the Trikru consider her to be Harper's _houmon_ , then there's going to be a holy war that I'm not entirely sure even Lexa could stop."

—O—

The change in terrain was immediate and drastic, but the presence of a half-dozen Azgeda guards was a more immediate demand for the attention of the four women emerging from the shimmering gate. Two of the Azgeda were dead before they could so much as utter a syllable, the tip of an icy spear tearing out one's throat while the whizzing blade of Lexa's sword decapitated another. Two more fell in mere seconds, as Anna threw her spear halfway through a guard's chest and Lexa had sent her horse trampling over one of the Azgeda scrambling to their feet from where they were seated at their campsite.

The two remaining Azgeda reached their feet before an icy blast swept over one as he drew his arm back to throw a knife, ending his life as his upper body shattered into dull pieces of jagged ice. The final Azgeda wisely attempted to run. He made it nearly seventy meters before Lexa had brought her horse around and run him down, ending his life with a slash to his throat that left his head only loosely attached by a few flaps of muscles and skin.

"I'm sorry about him nearly getting that knife thrown," Elsa said, shaking her head. "That took..."

Anna sidestepped her icy horse closer, gently grasping Elsa's face while she carefully examined the blonde's fair features. "It _is_ harder to use magic here, isn't it?"

There was genuine concern in Elsa's bright blue eyes as she looked into Anna's blue-green. Elsa held out her right hand, palm upward; frost and fog shimmered over the skin of her palm, finally coalescing into a large six-pointed snowflake, but with a grimace and visible cost of exertion on Elsa's part. She nodded, meeting Anna's gaze again. "Yes. Considerably harder, but I'll manage."

Anna reached out her right hand, fingers open; she was pleasantly surprised when the icy spear pulled itself out of the dead Azgeda's chest, flying back to her open hand as smoothly and easily as ever. "It doesn't seem to affect my weapons, though." She nudged her horse lightly, getting a snort and a brief whinny in reply. "Or the horses." She replaced the spear in its scabbard lashed to the side of her magical steed, then she pulled her ice blade halfway out of its sheath at her left hip. Immediately the blade glowed with a gentle blue light; it felt the same to Anna's sense of her and Elsa's magic as well. "Sword's working just fine, too. Huh."

"We'll manage," Elsa said, smiling politely. "We can experiment while we're here, see if we can determine what's different regarding magic in this world."

"Once we can establish where we are, exactly, we must return to Polis," Lexa said, sliding off her horse to check the dead Azgeda for any maps or notable possessions.

"And I need to head to Arkadia," said Clarke. "So I can deal with Charles Pike." She turned to Elsa. "Any ideas on how to find that sorcerer or the book?"

"Nia will be returning to the Ice Nation, if not already there," Lexa said, moving on from one fallen Azgeda to a second. "We cannot risk attacking her until we know the political situation of the Azgeda and their traditional allies, as well as the extent of Nia's new powers."

Elsa and Anna looked at each other. Elsa tried to reach out with her powers, but there was no snow at their present location, and it felt as though her magical senses were muffled or weakened somehow. As soon as the frustration began to wash over her, though, she felt Anna's fingers gently resting on her wrist, and with that the frustration evaporated.

—O—

As the news spread through Polis like fire through a parched forest, the city became a frenzy of bustle and activity despite the terribly late hour. Most of the chaos had subsided by the time the massive steel gates of the city opened, revealing a quartet of riders just outside the gates, astride horses that were half mundane and half otherworldly.

As the inhabitants of Polis fell to their knees in the sight of their Heda once more, Anna and Elsa watched with polite interest at the show of devotion.

"Rise, citizens of Polis!" Lexa said loudly, pausing while those present did just that. "Tonight, your Heda and Wanheda return to you, along with new friends who have accompanied us."

All the faces of the hundreds, if not thousands, of people present turned to regard the oddly dressed women with their two leaders; the elegant blonde with pale skin, dressed in an blue and white gown unlike anything most of Polis had ever seen, and the youthful-looking redhead, skin dotted with vibrant freckles, wearing a glimmering sheath of white chain mail beneath her green and purple tunic, pants and cloak.

"These are our new allies," Lexa continued, her voice projected over the entire crowd. "Winter Queen Elsa and Summer Queen Anna, of the distant country of Arendelle. They are here to offer their assistance with ending the rebellion in the Ice Nation and with bringing the Skaikru murderer Charles Pike to justice!"

 _And hunting down and killing a murderous sorcerer who had no qualms about torturing and butchering adults and children alike to achieve his or her goals_ , Clarke though as the crowd gave a robust cheer, although the four of them had already agreed to leave that part unsaid for now. Best to not give the Clans more reason to fear Nia's return beyond what was already present.

As Lexa started forward, toward the central tower stretching nearly to the sky, Clarke had her horse match the slow lope of Lexa's mount. A glance behind her showed Elsa and Anna had done the same, although their snowy mounts had started to attract curious stares, building to a significant crowd pacing them as they made their way down the city's main road, the stalls lining both sides of the wide street now empty due to the late hour. The crowd remained respectfully (possibly fearfully) silent, other than the occasional whisper that grew loud enough to float to the ears of one of the women.

Finally they reached the point where the crowds had to be cordoned off, with nearly a dozen guards taking position behind the four riders, closing off the street with their bodies as they quietly indicated that the crowd could go no further tonight.

Lexa smiled as she saw Aden emerge from the double doors of the tower, the nearly-as-young new flamekeeper Cicero trying to keep pace with Polis's regent. Aden was mostly dressed, missing a jacket or coat but with his sword and daggers sheathed at his sides. The closely shorn Cicero, on the other hand, still appeared to be wrestling with being awoken in the middle of the night, but he gamely kept pace with the young Nightblood.

"Welcome home, Heda, Wanheda!" Aden said, the beaming smile on his face betraying his relative inexperience with leading. Lexa made a note to work more with him on concealing his emotions when fatigued or distracted.

Lexa slid off her saddle smoothly, handing her horse's reins to an approaching attendant. Clarke did the same without hesitation, but the smoothly efficient exchanges skidded to a halt when the stablehands approached Anna's and Elsa's mounts.

Elsa's blue eyes twinkled as she took in the confusion and hesitance on the part of the young girl who stood beside her mount, arm still raised and hand held in place where she had begun to reach for the reins, only to stop at the point-blank sight of the crystal hair, frosty skin and the chill emanating from the icy horse. "He won't bite," Elsa said pleasantly. "And his reins are safe to touch. I'd suggest wearing gloves when you brush him, and he won't need to eat, but otherwise you may treat him like any other mount."

The quiet smack of Anna's boots hitting the hard surface of the street broke the silence; she handed the reins of her horse to the teenaged boy likewise dumbstruck while waiting to accept them, then she moved to Elsa's side as the blonde queen dismounted on her own.

"I like this city," Anna said cheerfully, getting a matching smile from Elsa as well.

"Yes, it's both picturesque and impressive," Elsa agreed. "Especially the tower. It _is_ quite a bit taller than Arendelle Castle." She turned to Lexa and Clarke. "Polis certainly lives up to how you described it, Heda Lexa, Wanheda Clarke. It's quite lovely, and its people certainly seem devoted to the two of you."

It was obvious that the people of Polis weren't as well off as those of Arendelle, something that the last three days of travel had made clear to Anna and Elsa. The people they had met both on the road and in the two small villages they had passed through were clearly wary even after they had recognized Lexa, their body language fearful, menacing or both more often than not.

It had taken roughly an hour for Elsa to regain her strength after sealing off the dimensional portal, encasing it in a sphere of impenetrable ice as she had done back in Arendelle. During that time Lexa had applied a rather fearsome design of inky paint across her face and over her eyes, something which she had explained as being like a badge of her station. She had also affixed a long, thin ribbon of scarlet to a pauldron over her left shoulder, letting the long fabric hang down nearly to her knees. It was a transformation that certainly added a look of menace which Maleficent herself would have admired to the otherwise polite, intelligent young woman.

But despite the overt danger that seemed to be palpable everywhere in this world, there was still beauty to be found. There was no counterpart to the aurora borealis that she and Anna were used to seeing, but the sunsets were a spectacular red, orange and pink that was more vivid than any Elsa had even seen. The flowers, trees and grass were an endless variety of colors so intense that it seemed as if they had come to life out of an illustrated storybook. Life seemed hard, but that made what people had accomplished that much more precious and impressive.

"Queen Anna, Queen Elsa," Lexa said, drawing the attention of the two Arendellan monarchs. "Please come inside. I'll have porters bring all your gear to the quarters you'll be using while staying here, but we need to catch up on what has occurred while Clarke and I have been gone."

"Of course," Elsa replied politely, taking Anna's hand in her own as the two of them followed Lexa, Clarke and the two young men into the looming skyscraper.

—O—

Lexa sighed as she took a drink of grape juice, the fingers of her free left hand idly playing with the loose strands of Clarke's hair where the blonde was lying back against her lover where they reclined on one of the large couches in their quarters.

"That's a lot to take in," Clarke mumbled.

"Yes," Lexa replied softly, the dreaminess in her voice belying the fact that part of her mind was elsewhere, still actively turning over the various pieces of crises that had been presented to her over the last two hours.

"No shit," softly swore the voice of John Murphy, uncharacteristically subdued for him. "So you're trying to tell me that those two women you brought back with you aren't just actual living, breathing _queens_ from some fantasy land, but they're sisters _and_ they're fucking each other?"

"While I find you valuable for your candor, John Murphy," Lexa said, narrowing her eyes as she turned her head to look at the former Skaikru, "you would do well to remember that either of those two women is capable of killing you in less time than it would take your mind to register that your throat had been cut or your heart had been frozen solid."

"Yeah, good point," Murphy mumbled. "Thanks for the reminder." He paused before continuing, "They don't look any older than we do."

"And how many people have _we_ killed?" Clarke asked, disbelief staining her voice as she lifted her head to look Murphy directly in the eyes.

Murphy sighed, equally due to Clarke's point being valid as much as it was due to it being Clarke correcting him. "Another fair point, princess. But still, _magic?"_

"It's real, Murphy. I didn't believe it either. But Lexa and I have both seen it. Repeatedly."

Lexa's sigh made Clarke pause. "I fear Clarke and I have more to discuss before we can sleep," Lexa said quietly before looking over at Murphy. "Thank you for scouting Arkadia for us while we were gone, John Murphy. And thank you for bringing back the letter from Clarke's mother."

Murphy shrugged his shoulders in a way that managed to toe the delicate line between nonchalance and disrespect; had Lexa's guards been present, she would have been tempted to punish him for the insouciance, but currently the combination of fatigue from traveling and the numb glow of having Clarke back in their home chambers had left the brunette feeling rather nonchalant herself. "Hey, it's what you're paying me for," he said, trying to sound as cavalier as possible. "Among other things."

"Yes," Lexa said, smiling to herself more than to him. "It is. And thank you for your insights on Thelonious Jaha and this 'City of Light' doctrine he is preaching."

"If you want my no-shit opinion on it, he's the real threat." Seeing the two women turn their heads to look at him together, Murphy continued. "Yeah, Pike's an asshole. We all knew that. But Jaha's different. He's legitimately nuts.

"I watched him throw people's lives away without even blinking an eye, on that crazy-ass hunt for the City of Light he kept going on about. I mean, I'm a heartless prick, I admit it, but some of the ways he let his 'followers' die—or just killed them himself—were pretty cold-blooded."

Murphy sighed. "But the real topper to all his layers of crazy is that... he found _something_. Out there, on that island, after he and I split up. Whatever the City of Light really was, Jaha brought something back with him in that weird case, and he's handing it out like fucked-up candy to anybody in Arkadia who's willing to listen to his bullshit." Murphy looked down at the rug on the hard floor. "Even Reyes."

"Raven's working with him?" Clarke asked, sitting up so quickly that Lexa was unable to keep from tugging her hair briefly.

Murphy spread his hands in a _whatever_ gesture as he met Clarke's gaze. "Working _with_ him, working _for_ him, your guess is as good as mine. But plenty of people have noticed she's acted different since she became one of his little converts. Not as mouthy, not as bitchy, just kind of looking at everybody and everything like she's staring right through them."

Clarke turned to look at Lexa, a look that wasn't quite panic but was disturbingly close gleaming in her eyes. Then it was gone, carefully tucked away before Clarke looked at Murphy again. "Thank you, Murphy," she said, sincerely. "I think Lexa and I need to talk about some things for now."

Murphy grinned. "Is that what you call it?" he said as he stood.

"Be careful," Clarke warned him, reaching back behind her to take Lexa's hand the same way she had watched Elsa with Anna several times over the last week, when the blonde didn't want the redhead to act rashly. "Not everybody around here has a sense of humor."

"Tell me something I don't know," he said easily. "But I've got to be me, yeah?"

Clarke looked at him carefully before patting him on the chest once. "Until it gets you killed," she said, lightening her statement with a smile. "See you tomorrow?"

"You're the boss," Murphy said, his usual smirk on his face. He turned to Lexa, then bowed his head slightly. "Heda," he said politely, then he turned and quietly walked to the door.

"Oh, yeah," Murphy said, turning as he reached the door. "There was something else I forgot to mention. Might not be much of anything, but who knows?"

"Go ahead," Lexa said.

"They, uh..." Murphy started, then he looked away briefly before looking back at Clarke, then Lexa. "They talk to themselves."

"Who?" asked Clarke, tearing her thoughts away from the thoroughly distracting sensation of Lexa's fingertips tracing across Clarke's lower back beneath her shirt.

"Jaha's little converts," Murphy replied. "They talk to themselves. When they think nobody's paying attention to them." He shrugged again. "Like I said, could be nothing. But it seemed to creep your mom out. She was the one who pointed it out to me."

"Thanks, Murphy," Clarke said. "And thanks for delivering her letter to me."

"That's what you and the boss pay me for," he replied. He nodded again, then quickly turned and pushed the doors open, walking into the hall as the guards closed the doors behind him as he exited.

Clarke and Lexa sat quietly for several minutes after he left, settling back into their previous position with Clarke reclining into Lexa's embrace.

"Does he know we have that weird wafer-tablet thing Jaha had given him?"

Lexa thought for a few seconds before replying to her mate's question. "I do not think so," she replied. "But he didn't seem interested in recovering it after Titus's attack on you. He was obviously distrustful of it, as he never used it."

"Mom said in her letter that the chips use some kind of nanotechnology. Microscopic machines that attach to the brainstem and partially rewire the spinal cord. They do something to mitigate the signals from pain fibers but also have some kind of effect on the personality. She's trying to figure it out, but without cutting someone's brainstem open, there's only so much analysis she can do."

It was quiet in their chambers before Lexa opened her mouth to speak, only to be cut off by Clarke.

"And don't you say that I should do it to you, Lexa."

Lexa blinked, both surprised and more than a bit proud that Clarke had guessed what she was about to suggest. "The similarities are undeniable," the brunette replied. "Placement at the brainstem, the holy symbol of the First Commander, the—"

"So are the differences," Clarke shot back. "The Commander's Spirit doesn't alter your personality, or block your pain receptors. Plus it has to be implanted, not ingested. And it works _with_ you. It doesn't control you."

Lexa nodded in agreement. "Agreed. Still, there clearly is a connection."

"Okay, yes, there's a connection."

"Perhaps the Nightblood is connected as well..." Lexa murmured, the words instantly drawing Clarke's attention.

"What?"

"The First Commander, her Spirit and the Nightblood all came from the sky. The holy symbol came with her as well."

Clarke considered Lexa's thoughts and implications. "Do you think this thing Jaha is handing out is connected to her too?"

Lexa closed her eyes and went still for several seconds, which stretched into several minutes. Finally she slowly blinked open her eyes, revealing thin green rims almost entirely overtaken by the blackness of her pupils. "I cannot find anything like these wafers in my past memories," Lexa finally spoke, her voice slightly unsteady.

She turned to look at Clarke, and the intensity of her gaze made Clarke shudder. "I... do not want you to go to Arkadia, Clarke," Lexa whispered.

"What?" asked Clarke, confused.

Lexa blinked twice, and the tears that escaped her eyes were equally startling to Clarke. "I know that you must go, just as you do. But I do not like entering battle without being aware of all the forces and their capabilities, and I fear that is _exactly_ what you're going to do tomorrow."

"I'll have Elsa and Anna with me," Clarke said. "Plus you've already sent Indra and Octavia, along with the Trikru forces manning the blockade. I'll be fine."

"But if Jaha has secretly been creating a force of people who will be loyal to him, things could get much worse."

Clarke nodded, then she gently pushed Lexa back onto the couch. She smiled as she lay her body atop Lexa, resting her head on Lexa's shoulder. She felt Lexa's arms come up to hold her securely, not too tight, not too loose, and the security she felt in Lexa's arms make Clarke's heart swell. However, in contrast to how relaxed she felt, Clarke also felt the tension in Lexa's body beneath her, more than just the usual taut muscle tone. _"Relax, my houmon,_ " Clarke whispered in Trigedasleng. _"I'm here now. Just breathe and focus on my heart."_

For several minutes they lay quietly, eyes closed, soaking in the intimacy and love they shared. "Whatever happens, I _will_ come back to you, Lexa," Clarke finally spoke, her voice quiet but her tone firm. "I promise you that. Even if it means abandoning Arkadia entirely."

Clarke's hand gently brushed over Lexa's forehead, careful not to dislodge the tiny symbolic gear she wore between her eyes for official business. "While my mother and my friends are in Arkadia, my home and my life is here with you," Clarke said. "I accept and embrace that. Fully."

Lexa squeezed her eyes tightly, swallowing against the flood of emotion trying to erupt from her chest. "I... trust you, Clarke," she managed to say. "And I love you."

"First thing I'll do when I get there is deal with Pike. Then I'll find Mom. She gave us a list of people who she knows have and haven't taken him up on his 'City of Light' offer."

"Is there anyone else in Arkadia who might be able to help, since we cannot trust Raven?" Lexa asked, gently brushing Clarke's hair with her fingers and placing light kisses on the blonde's temples every few strokes.

"Monty would be our best bet, plus maybe Kyle Wick. The trick is going to be keeping Raven distracted while we try to figure out exactly what Jaha's goal is, because if she is working with him, we can't take the chance on her warning him that we're up to something."

Lexa couldn't help but smile. "Even if we don't know what we're 'up to' yet, I suppose?"

Clarke grinned, even though Lexa couldn't see the expression from behind her. "I suppose," she admitted happily.

"I have some thoughts on this matter, _ai niron_ ," Lexa said as she carefully kissed Clarke's right ear. "But we can discuss them... later. Before you leave in the morning."

Clarke grinned as she turned in Lexa's arms to face her wife. "I could get behind that," she said teasingly. "Or under it. Or on top—"

Her words were cut off by Lexa's lips pressing against hers and the brunette bodily picking Clarke up and carrying her to their bedchambers, their lips never losing contact.

—O—

"How are you holding up?" Anna spoke softly.

Elsa blinked, looking up into the mirror in the room they had been given to see the redhead standing behind her, a concerned expression on her face. "I'm just tired," Elsa replied, smiling at Anna's beautiful visage despite her weariness.

Anna crossed the room, tossing the shirt of her ice mail on a nearby chair as she knelt on the floor, pressing her bare breasts against Elsa's exposed back. She smiled as she wrapped her arms around Elsa, relishing in her mate's content sigh as Elsa let herself relax in Anna's embrace. "Love you," Anna softly spoke, her lips lightly pressing against the skin at Elsa's hairline on the back of her neck.

"I love you too," Elsa replied, reaching back to gently wrap one of Anna's braids around her hand. "I'll be okay. I promise."

"Yeah, but I can't help but worry about you," Anna replied, grinning as her hands drifted down from where they had been tracing lines on Elsa's chest, finally stopping over Elsa's lower abdomen. "And about the baby."

Elsa smiled broadly as she slid her hips slightly forward, lowering the angle of her lower back and giving Anna's hands more of her abdomen to caress. "She feels fine to my magic," Elsa replied. "That much I can tell, at least."

"You've just seemed really tired these last three days, more than you were with Erin," Anna said, kissing Elsa's head. "Although I suppose we're not used to riding horses on long trips anymore."

Elsa slowly shifted on the stool, sitting up carefully so as to allow Anna to avoid getting hit in the head by a shoulder or elbow. She turned and helped Anna up, pulling her close, only Anna's pants between them as Elsa dissolved the gown she had been wearing. "It's definitely harder to use magic on this world," she admitted with a sigh. "And it's been active the whole time we've been here, for some reason. I think that's why I feel so drained."

"Adjusting to the different world, maybe?"

"Maybe," Elsa though. "But I'm not sure yet."

"Or maybe it's trying to reconnect to our world. Or to the girls."

Elsa scrunched her nose slightly. "What part of 'I'm not sure' was unclear back there, Anna?" she asked flippantly.

Anna grinned back. "Just the part where your lips were moving."

Silently conceding the point to Anna, Elsa smiled at her wife, stepping to the side while holding onto one of Anna's hands as she led them to the large bed beside them. Elsa turned the covers back, letting Anna slide in first. Anna in turn grabbed the near edge of most of the blankets on the bed and pulled them nearly off, piling them up on the side and leaving just a sheet and a thin blanket covering them.

"Thank you," Elsa said, her blue eyes still bright even in the dim room. "For looking out for us."

"Hey, it's easy looking out for someone when she's as gorgeous as you."

The frown on Elsa's face made Anna laugh, which in turn made Elsa grin and laugh as well. "Well, at least I've got that going for me," Elsa replied.

"All day long," Anna added, getting another laugh from Elsa. "And all night."

"Speaking of which," Elsa said, lifting her left arm and pointing it toward the ceiling. There was a momentary pause as Elsa felt the magic within her struggle to be released in this odd world, then she felt her magic pulse into Anna, gathering power from their connection before thrumming back into her body again.

A bright glow filled the room as ribbons and streams of white frost sprayed upward before twisting to the sides and falling in a cascade over and around the bed. The shimmering spray thickened as it hit the floor, forming into a dense semicircular dome of ice that completely enclosed the bed they were in, even extending beneath the bed to coat the floor below them as well. With her powers boosted from the intimate contact with Anna, the drain on Elsa was fairly modest, and she gladly accepted the fatigue to ensure they were safe.

"Now then," Elsa said, a sultry smirk on her face as she turned back toward Anna, their protective barrier of ice now securely around them. "Where were we?"

—O—

Well into the night, Lexa found herself unable to sleep, despite the comforting weight of Clarke's body laying over her in their bed. She had spent the last few hours lying in quiet but fevered thought, asking herself if there was any limit to what she would do to protect Clarke. Was there any length to which she wouldn't go, any taboo she would refuse to break, any boundary she would refuse to cross to safeguard the woman she loved?

She couldn't think of any.

—O—

Many miles to the north, lusty cheers and shouts erupted as the severed head of the False King Roan hit the snow-covered ground with a soft thump, a thin ribbon of blood trailing its descent.

The cheers of the crowd rose even louder when the white-cloaked woman stood from the throne atop the platform. She shifted the thick cloak of white fur so that the cloak fell behind her as she stepped forward. She stopped just past the dead body of her son, who had betrayed her even before her death. Now he had paid for his treachery.

Hans watched with cool admiration as Nia basked in the devotion of her followers, relishing the adoration while stoking the fires further. The Azgeda were surprisingly primitive, despite the once-advanced technology they had commanded just over a century ago. With that primitive thinking went superstition, much to his and Nia's benefit. As a result of her having herself venerated for decades, it was rather easy for her people to accept her resurrection and new godhood, especially with her standing before them, living, breathing, speaking, near enough and solid enough to touch and remove all doubts.

Working with Nia was surprisingly pleasant, even without any carnal attraction. He knew better than to fall prey to such temptations with a partner who was as likely to betray him as he would her. But she was a very competent if ruthless ruler, with fiercely (he would go so far as to say foolishly) loyal followers who were quick to carry out her every order. After the several hours of disorientation that followed her return to the living world were finally over, she had quickly grasped what he had given her and what he was proposing to her, and she had immediately agreed to the alliance. He would tutor her on her new powers and use his magic to help her people rout those foolish enough to oppose them. They would work together to first conquer Nia's enemies and firmly establish Nia's kingdom, then they would take her Azgeda across dimensions to overthrow the incestuous bitches of Arendelle. From that isolated country he could carry out his dark magic without interruption as he built his power and knowledge further. With his ability to cross dimensions, there was no limit to the power and knowledge he could accumulate, as long as he had souls to sacrifice to maintain his vitality.

As the crowd gasped in awe, Hans looked up to see Nia's arms raised and extended to her sides, with both hands glowing with a yellow-white light as frost and ice dripped from her fingers; she then whirled around and unleashed an arctic blast that froze the corpse of the dead king Roan solid before shattering it into a million pieces of ice.

Really, he _hadn't_ intended to invest Nia with powers like Elsa. It must have had something to do with the location of the ritual, perhaps the resonance

That it had happened, though...

Well, he could appreciate irony as well as anyone.

—O—

 **Author's Afterword:** I can already see the questions coming about the different mechanics of magic in Earth-100, as well as about potential damaging effects of the increased radiation on little Lise (yes, they've already picked out a name, but they haven't told anyone yet). I'll get into a more detailed discussion of how magic "works" in this story next chapter, but I want to go ahead and reassure everyone that Lise is going to be fine. The reason Elsa's powers seem to be "on" since they crossed over into Earth-100 is that they're constantly healing damage from the high radiation levels. Anna is getting some protection as well, mostly when she's touching Elsa. When they're touching, Elsa's magic senses the early radiation damage beginning in Anna and starts healing her as well, and because Elsa's powers are boosted when she and Anna are touching, they're able to heal Anna enough during the times they're touching to prevent radiation sickness from developing. So far. And yes, Elsa's powers constantly being "on" is indeed making her tired, even more so than being pregnant is.

I think the context was probably translation enough, but " _ai niron"_ = "my lover."

Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it, and see you soon with the next chapter!


	10. Chapter 10: Challenge Accepted

**Author's Note:** I make no apologies for the cinematic battle scene in this chapter. NONE. In fact, remembering this chapter's theme music when you get to that part will help ensure you get the full effect.

Cover Art for the story is from the LexaRecovery tumblr. Stay strong together.

 _I do not own the television show "The 100" or make any claims upon it or its characters. Similarly, I do not own Frozen, its characters or any Disney characters or property. All these characters are used under the concept of Fair Use, and I make no profit or income from using any of them._

 **Our Fight Is Not Over**

by Jo K.

Chapter 10: Challenge Accepted

 _Where have all the good men gone_

 _And where are all the gods_

 _Where's the streetwise Hercules to fight the rising odds_

 _Isn't there a white knight upon a fiery steed_

 _Late at night I toss and I turn and I dream of what I need_

 _I need a hero_

 _I'm holding out for a hero 'til the end of the night_

 _She's got to be fast and she's got to be strong_

 _And she's got to be fresh from the fight_

 _I need a hero_

 _I'm holding out for a hero 'til the morning light_

 _She's got to be sure and she's got to be soon_

 _And she's got to be larger than life_

-Bonnie Tyler, "Holding out for a Hero" (corrected for gender for this story)

—O—

Though the sun was just now rising over the walls of Polis, casting a rosy tint across the clear sky, it had already been an emotional—and eventful—morning for Clarke and Lexa, both of whom had been up for several hours.

"I wish I could do more to prepare you," Lexa said, admiring Clarke's strength as well as her beauty as the blonde slipped her trusty navy jacket over her shoulders. Like Clarke, it was worn in a few places and not all the bloodstains would come out, but it hadn't fallen apart, had been mended where possible and still did what it was supposed to do.

"Lexa," Clarke marveled, staring into her wife's bright green eyes. "You've already done..." she said, voice trailing off. She shook her head in wonder. "Honey, what else _could_ you do for me, after what you've done this morning?"

Lexa swallowed. What she had done already...

Well, it was done. No use debating with herself over it further.

They were now back in their chambers, gathering the last few things Clarke would be taking with her to Arkadia. "I could go with you," Lexa said quietly, holding Clarke's hands in her her as they faced each other.

Clarke shook her head, tears running down her face and crossing the corners of her mouth as she smiled at the wonderful, amazing, loving woman who had chosen HER to be her mate. "You can't, Lexa. We both know it."

Lexa sighed tiredly. "I could let Aden lead the raiding party. He—" She stopped, knowing what she was saying wasn't just wrong, it was foolish. When she glanced back up into Clarke's blue eyes, she saw a knowing humor in them. "That... would be a terrible mistake," Lexa admitted, irritated that even love would make her suggest such a ridiculous idea.

But Clarke responded with not chastisement, but with a loving smile and a soft kiss on the tip of Lexa's nose. "Yeah, it would," she agreed softly. "Aden's not going to be Heda for a long time, if I have anything to say about it." She smiled. "And I mean that in a good way."

Lexa allowed herself to smile weakly. "I know."

"If the Azgeda are holding people hostage to force their clans to follow her, then of course you need to free them. We need all the allies we can get to stop her, plus an act of heroism like that could very well save the alliance as a whole."

"Heroism might be a bit much," Lexa said. "And if the spies are correct about them being held in Coldspire, then freeing them could be impossible. It remains one of the most secure locations in alliance territory, on the border of the Blue Cliff Clan and Azgeda territory. It has never fallen to siege, and we have neither the time nor the forces for a prolonged assault."

Clarke smiled. "But you've never attacked it, have you?" she asked, eyes bright.

Lexa stared for a few seconds before she blinked. "No, I have not," she admitted.

"So you'll be the first one to capture it, then."

Unsure of what to say to that, Lexa allowed herself to smile, getting a playful ruffle of her dark hair from Clarke in return.

"I believe in you, Lexa," Clarke said, putting her arms across Lexa's shoulder and around her neck. "I'll deal with Pike, and hopefully I'll be able to bring some Skaikru and their guns back with me when we have to meet Nia's army."

"The small bands I have sent north should be able to hinder her progress for at least a week or two, perhaps longer, once she finally consolidates her forces and begin her advance south, which will almost certainly be within the month. I have two locations where I would be comfortable with our forces meeting hers. The farther of the two is a week away, the nearer four days."

"And you're comfortable with letting her advance that deep into alliance territory?"

"No, but we have no choice. I will notify those leaders I trust most to be prepared to retreat and only put up token resistance. But the others must truly fight, or Nia will know we have something planned for her."

Clarke took in Lexa's argument and nodded. "I understand," she said, and she did. But it still sucked, to know that others were going to die fighting when they really had no chance. But this was Lexa's command, and her experience far outweighed Clarke's when it came to fighting Nia. "And I support you," she finally said, meaning it.

Lexa searched Clarke's light blue eyes for any sign of deception or regret, but there was none to be found. "Thank you," Lexa said. She looked Clarke up and down once more, running her fingers down Clarke's arms to her hands, then grasping her hands in her own again. "And you're sure you feel fine?" she asked, once again the concerned _houmon_.

Clarke nodded, a warm, happy feeling flowing through her body at Lexa being so protective of her. "Absolutely. I promise."

"Good," Lexa said, smiling. "Then there is one more thing I must give you before you set out for Arkadia."

Clarke was a bit confused when Lexa turned and walked into the main room of the chambers, coming back a few seconds later with a small wooden box. She placed the box down on the nearby table, opening it carefully to remove what looked like a small piece of metal armor attached to a thin leather strap. There was something dark attached to the metal plate, but Clarke couldn't tell what it was.

"Lift your right arm," said Lexa; Clarke immediately complied. It was when Lexa placed the metal object on Clarke's right shoulder and began buckling the strap around the blonde's torso that Clarke realized it was a pauldron to match the one Lexa herself wore that carried her red Commander's sash, although Lexa wore her pauldron on her left shoulder.

"Uh, Lexa..."

"Shhh," Lexa whispered as she finished buckling the second strap, securing the decorative piece of armor in place. She then pulled a string, untying the knot around the tightly-rolled dark fabric, allowing a thin strip of deep blue fabric to unfurl, falling nearly to Clarke's knee.

Clarke turned to look at the thin strip of satiny fabric, a royal blue throughout its length, although a bright spot at its end caught Clarke's eye. "Lexa, _what_ have you done?" she asked, amazed, as she pulled the length of fabric closer to her, lifting the bottom until she could see a handful of tiny white stitches placed at the sash's end.

"They are stars," Lexa said, watching Clarke examine her new decoration. "To honor your birthplace. I thought it a fitting touch for Wanheda's sash."

Clarke looked up into Lexa's bright eyes, blinking against the moisture gathering. "What—"

Lexa cut her off by pressing her index finger against Clarke's lips. "This formally signifies what the Alliance already knows—that you are my second-in-command, and that you are to be honored and respected... not as my _houmon_ , but as Wanheda."

Clarke threw herself forward, nearly toppling Lexa backwards with the force of her embrace. "I'll make you proud," she breathed into the soft fabric of of Lexa's shirt, her breath warm on Lexa's shoulder beneath the fabric.

Lexa's eyes were also closed tightly as she relished this moment, for the possibility would always exist for each moment, each embrace, each kiss to be their last. "I... I know you will," she managed to whisper against Clarke's hair.

—O—

As Clarke stepped out of the tower's main doors, she noticed the guards turning to regard her closely. She scanned their faces, looking for any who seemed upset or resentful at the sash she now displayed fluttering along her right side, but she found only the same combination of fear and respect that she had been shown by the people of Polis for weeks now.

"Is my horse ready?" she asked the nearest guard.

" _Sha_ , Wanheda," he replied, pointing to a small gathering of people and horses farther out in the courtyard. Clarke saw a half-dozen Trikru warriors, along with one of Anna's and Elsa's frosty white horses. The blonde and redhead were there as well, talking and sharing what appeared to be a meat-filled pastry of some sort. Elsa had her icy rapier sheathed at her side, the white belt cinched snugly around the waist of her sky blue gown. Her shoes were as clear as crystal, but were modest flats rather than heels. Anna was wearing dark green pants and a matching shirt with dark boots, her bright white ice mail visibly covering her neck and arms.

"Not taking both horses?" Clarke asked as she reached the group. The Trikru all bowed their heads briefly, while Anna and Elsa turned to their friend. Elsa smiled happily, while Anna continued to chew her food, cheeks stuffed full.

"I told her not to take so big a bite, but she never listens," Elsa said teasingly. "That's my Anna," she added before placing a kiss on the redhead's freckled cheek.

"Hey, you luf m—" Anna mumbled, only to be cut off by Elsa's hand covering her mouth.

Elsa turned to look at Clarke again. "Anna is going to accompany Lexa, while I go with you," she said calmly. "That way we can help both of you, should it be necessary."

"I didn't think you'd want to split up," Clarke said, a bit surprised.

"We don't," Anna replied, mouth finally empty. "But I'm sure neither do you and Lexa, right?"

Clarke's mouth opened to reply, then stopped. "Good point," she finally said. "Then let's get going. It'll take three days to get to Arkadia. The roads are better than they used to be, but it's still a trip."

"Bye, love!" Anna said, pulling Elsa close for a kiss, which the fair blonde didn't resist in the slightest. "Be careful, okay?"

Elsa nodded. "I will," she promised. "And you do the same. No foolish risks, alright?"

"No foolish risks," Anna promised. "My armor and weapons still work fine, too." That much they had settled to their contentment over the last four days. While Elsa still felt drained when she attempted to use her powers, Anna's shield, sword, spear, armor and ice dagger retained all of their qualities.

"That gives me some comfort," Elsa replied, still visibly worried by the way her hands were twitching.

"Hey," Anna said, stepping close and letting her hands subtly drift down to Elsa's stomach. As Elsa put her arms around Anna to hold her, Anna's fingertips shifted to where she could feel the outline of Elsa's snowflake charm through the thin material of her sky blue gown; the charm, piercing and chain were all crafted from her magical ice, following Anna's design. As Anna gently teased the charm, lightly tugging on the chain connecting it to Elsa's belly button piercing, Elsa closed her eyes at the delicious sensation that always evoked in her.

"Mmmm, you know what that does to me," Elsa whispered in Anna's ear, knowing that Anna was likely smirking at that very moment.

"Uh huh," Anna replied softly. "It—" Anna gasped softly as she felt a tug against her matching charm, sending the same jolt down her gut into her pelvis. "Not fair," she whispered against Elsa's throat. "Using your powers."

"Don't care," Elsa breathed softly, a smirk of her own now on her lips. "You deserve to feel it too."

Anna enjoyed the sensation for a moment before she lightly kissed Elsa's throat. "These are special to us," she murmured against the faintly freckled skin, "because they have a piece of both of us in them. Something we share, something that connects us just like our wedding rings, but in a more intimate way."

The two of them stood still, Elsa's arms around Anna as Anna's free left arm gently wrapped around Elsa's waist, holding her close while they savored the sensation of being in contact with each other for as long as possible. Finally, though, they knew they needed to part, so Elsa could set off with Clarke.

"Take care of yourself," Anna said as she kissed Elsa's lips, then she moved to gently kiss Elsa's left ear. "And take care of our daughter," she whispered, punctuating her sentence with a light squeeze from her left arm where it encircled Elsa's waist.

"I will," Elsa replied, looking slightly down into Anna's eyes, more green than blue in the soft light of the breaking dawn. "And you take of yourself as well. I expect you to behave like the Queen you are."

The twinkle in Anna's eyes left no doubt how hard she would try to behave. "Yes, Your Majesty," Anna dutifully replied. "Love you."

Elsa's nose wrinkled slightly as she smiled back. "Love you, too."

Anna walked with Elsa to her frost-covered horse, gently holding Elsa's hips as the blonde queen stepped up into the stirrup and mounted her horse, subtly changing her gown's skirt into flowing loose pants of the same design. Once Elsa was firmly situated, her white rapier visibly hanging at her side, Anna patted the bare skin of Elsa's lower leg just above her ankle lovingly. "I'll see you in a few days," Anna said, smiling.

"Yes, you will," Elsa replied smugly, before blowing a frosty kiss that literally sparkled, sending a small cloud of blowing frost that engulfed Anna's head, making the redhead laugh.

As the Trikru watched and quietly laughed at the antics of the two, Elsa turned to Clarke. "Are we ready?" she asked, smiling as if they were going for a simple ride in the country.

Clarke smiled back. "Yes we are," she answered.

—O—

As the shouting picked up for the second time, Anna found herself wishing that she'd gone with Elsa and Clarke after all. So far, council meetings in this world were annoyingly similar to ones back in Arendelle, with all the posturing and bickering, although her and Elsa's ministers were at least much more polite.

The sound of steel clearing a scabbard, though, made things a bit more interesting.

Anna turned to see Lexa now standing in front of her fearsome throne, her sword drawn and brandished before her.

"DOES ANYONE HERE SEEK TO CHALLENGE ME?" Lexa roared, immediately cowing the squabbling council members and representatives into silence.

Anna just watched, a look of curious amusement now on her face as she looked around the room at grown men and women utterly petrified with fear.

Lexa's glare swept across the entire council room once, twice, then a much slower third pass before she relaxed her stance. "I take your silence as recognition that I am _still_ Heda and I _still_ command this Alliance," she said angrily. "This Council WILL oppose Nia and her latest attempt to sunder the _Kongeda_ , and there will be _no argument_."

Lexa looked at the despondent face of Bent Trees, the leader of the Broadleaf Clan. "Bent Trees, please step forward," she said, using her more usual tone of voice as Heda.

Obediently the older man walked forward. His hair was white, his skin leathery from years in the fields and hills. He had been one of Lexa's earliest supporters, and when she had been told that several from his clan had been taken hostage by the Azgeda since Nia's return, Lexa knew exactly what the Azgeda ruler's plan was.

Lexa sheathed her sword, not taking her eyes off the weathered clan leader. His clan had not been the only one targeted by Nia's forces; the Blue Cliff clan, Glowing Forest clan, Delphi clan and Shallow Valley clan had all suffered abductions of key clan members or those close to them. However, of those five, only the Broadleaf clan had sent a representative to this meeting of the Kongeda to inform them of this development; Lexa figured the other clans were either fearful of revealing that information or simply terrified of her wrath when she found out Nia was forcing those clans to join her forces in the looming civil war.

The much older man refused to cower or plead with his Heda. He understood that his life was hers to take, and perhaps were she to claim his head, the next leader of Broadleaf Clan might not be so troubled by attachments. But Bent Trees was old, and he loved his houmon. He was old enough to have met his grandchildren, a rarity among the Grounders, and they were among those held captive by the Azgeda.

"Bent Trees," Lexa spoke carefully, "you have led Broadleaf Clan since long before I was Heda. The news you brought us today about Azgeda capturing prisoners to force clans to join her army is terrible, but in the end the fault for this rests upon Nia and the Azgeda, not on you, your clan or the other clans.

"However, you alone among these clans Nia has targeted had the courage, the loyalty and the integrity to face me, to deliver this news. For this, I promise you that I will lead an army to storm the Azgeda prison and free the hostages."

The wizened man smiled, finally. "Th-thank you, Heda," he said, simply.

Lexa smiled, genuinely. She hated having to lie to him, but it was a necessary part of her plan. "I will send out riders to gather forces beginning tomorrow. We will have your family back and the prisoners freed in a few weeks." She looked him directly in the eye, holding that gaze seriously before she spoke again. "You must not speak a word of this to the other clans. Go ahead and allow Broadleaf Clan to join Nia's forces until you have word that I have freed the prisoners. Only then can you safely slip away from her forces, for by then she will be marching on Polis and unable to pursue you."

The man bowed once more, waiting until Lexa nodded and dismissed him. After he and his small contingent left the council chamber, the remaining councilors began to argue again.

"We already face an army made up of five clans," spat Trajan, the ambassador from the Plains Riders. "Those numbers are already nearly a match for the rest of us! And now you want to take some of our warriors into certain death, attacking one of the most secure citadels among all the clans!"

"It's not certain death," Lexa replied, her tone of voice cold, but Trajan was hearing none of the warning signs. "Like all targets, Coldspire can fall."

"But at what cost?!" Trajan argued, his voice rising. "How many lives will you throw away on this—"

Lexa was off her throne and halfway to Trajan before the man could flinch, but when he did, he bumped into those standing behind him, nearly sending one smaller man sprawling. "Either challenge me, defy me or _be quiet!"_ Lexa shouted, hands still empty. "Which one you choose makes no difference to me, as long as your cowardly whining ceases!"

Trajan's mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. Finally he clamped his mouth shut.

Lexa nodded. "The wisest choice available to you," she said coolly. She deliberately turned her back to him as she walked back to the raised dais bearing her throne, watching the faces of Anna and the guards flanking her throne for any sign of reaction, while she also focused her hearing for any footsteps or sounds of leather sliding against metal. All remained calm, though, as Lexa once again sat upon the Heda's throne.

"Queen Anna of Arendelle, standing here beside me, will be accompanying our forces when we strike Coldspire," Lexa stated. "Her skills and experience with the cold with be most valuable."

"How do we know she's not a spy for the Azgeda?" spat one of the counselors shielded by those in front of him.

"Or an assassin?" shouted another, this one a warrior of the Crimson Plains tribe on the front row.

Lexa raised her eyebrows. "I know because I have personally witnessed the truth of her intentions, when she and her people came the aid of Wanheda and me, after we were attacked by an ambush party of Azgeda, including an _Azkripa_ they loosed upon us."

"Where is this Arendelle?" asked Niobe, the older woman who led the Lake People. "I have not heard of it."

"It's..." Anna said, thinking as she stepped forward, finally smiling as she settled on an acceptable choice of words. "It's very far away." She turned to Lexa. "What was the region Clarke said it corresponded to on your maps? Europe?"

"Yes, a region called Scandinavia."

"Across the ocean?!" shouted a voice, along with a general rumble of disbelief spreading through the chamber.

"Across more than one ocean," Anna said, honestly, although her words were lost in the rising discourse.

"She speaks the truth!" Lexa shouted, standing to emphasize her point. At once the crowd halted what they were doing, with the few who didn't see Heda's movement quickly stopped by those around them. "We will not discuss how we traveled there and back today. That is a discussion for another time. But Queen Anna's Arendelle is most real. Wanheda and I have seen it. And Nia and the Azgeda have been there as well."

"They killed hundreds of my people," Anna said, her voice tightening. "My wife and I _will_ have justice for our fallen men, women and children. As Lexa and Clarke helped us, we're here to help you in your conflict."

Nods went around the room, which Anna felt was a good sign. Whispers were still passing back and forth, though.

"How many warriors have you brought with you?" asked Trajan, eager to put something (or someone) else in the harsh glare of the spotlight besides himself.

"Oh, just my wife Elsa and me," Anna said pleasantly. "And our horses."

The onset of silence in the room was so sudden that Anna actually looked around to see if someone had somehow paralyzed all those assembled. Lexa was blinking, as were a few others, then she could see a few of the ambassadors and their retinue uncomfortably shift back and forth.

"Two of you," Trajan said, his voice measured. "That is what your 'help' consists of?" he asked flatly.

"Uh huh!" Anna answered happily. "Lexa very thoughtfully suggested we should be discreet and try not to draw attention, so it was just Elsa and me."

"Nia wields magic now!" shouted someone from behind Niobe. "How can two girls help us against that?!"

Seeing the disgruntled expressions spreading around the room quickly, Anna asked over her shoulder to Lexa, "Is this where I have to kick somebody's ass to get them to take me seriously?"

But a playful smirk crossed Lexa's lips then. "Trajan!" she called out. "Try to kill her."

Anna sighed as the broad-chested man immediately plucked an ax from its sheath on his back. "Really, Lexa?" she asked teasingly, reaching down and sliding her left forearm through the straps of her shield as the man charged her. The shield shot upward to meet the overhead strike of Trajan's metal ax, which promptly shattered as if it was made of glass the second it touched Anna's shield, now glowing with a white light.

Trajan's moment of disbelief lasted less than a second before Anna's fist struck his left jaw with surprising force, sending him reeling on his heels. Anna promptly dropped to the floor, using her right leg to sweep Trajan's feet out from under him. The man hit the hard floor with a resounding smack; Anna was up and standing, shield between her and her attacker, as he woozily sat up.

Trajan eyed the brightly glowing shield, as did most everyone else in the room. The temperature had begun to drop in the room, but that wasn't as notable just yet.

"Nia's not the only one who wields magic," Anna stated firmly. "And Elsa and I have much more experience with it than she does."

"Magic does not exist!" Trajan bellowed from his position on the floor. "Tricks, just like the Ice Queen!" he added, pounding his fist on the floor.

Anna's sword was drawn in the blink of an eye, its long, slender length glowing an intense blue-white, with the shield glowing even more brightly to match it as Anna pointed the sword's tip toward Trajan's head, less than a foot away. Frost began to form over his face immediately as the room's temperature dropped precipitously; the blood running down his lip and chin froze in midstream, a tiny crimson icicle stretching below his chin.

Then Anna's sword was gone, held down at her side as the light gleaming from it and the shield faded to a weak glow. The temperature stopped dropping and began to rise, but it would remain uncomfortably cold for several minutes in the room.

"If I had wished it, you'd be frozen solid right now, Trajan," Anna said, all trace of humor gone from her voice and face alike. "My wife and I have dealt with threats like Nia for over fifteen years. She's dangerous, certainly, and she does have some magic, or something like it, but she's no 'Ice Queen,' and calling her such is an insult to my wife."

Anna's face grew slightly flushed with anger. "Nia is a monster, reborn through the blood and suffering of my people," she said sternly. "And she's no match for those _truly_ intimate with the cold."

Trajan brushed the frost and ice off his face and out of his hair and beard, skin numb and stinging from the intense cold. "Are you really a queen?" he asked.

Anna thought was an odd question, but still. "I am," she replied.

Trajan rose to his feet, nodding his head. "I yield to you then, Queen Anna," he said calmly.

Anna held his gaze for several seconds before finally nodding and sheathing her sword; her shield's glow faded further until she returned it to the hook on her belt as well, when the glow stopped entirely and it once again looked like simple frosted ice. "So noted," she replied with a nod of recognition toward the man, who took his place back with the others, while Anna stepped backward, returning to her place just in front and left of Lexa.

"Both Queen Anna and Queen Elsa are skilled fighters, wielding magic born of the cold itself," Lexa said. "They are also excellent rulers, possess keen minds and fierce hearts, and are experienced in the matter of warfare. We are fortunate to have their assistance, and the Thirteen Clans recognize them and their country of Arendelle as honored allies." She looked around the chamber. "Treat them as such," she stated in a slightly lower register, "or suffer the consequences."

—O—

As the men and women filed out of the council chambers twenty minutes later, Anna and Lexa stood in front of the Heda's throne, watching as the last of the representatives exited and the guards closed the doors behind them, leaving the two women alone in the large room.

"So was it really a good idea to tell them our plan to raid that prison sometime in the next two to three weeks?" Anna asked, not really wanting to anger Lexa but thoroughly unsure as to why she would announce such a plan to a room full of people like she did.

Oddly, Lexa was smiling when she turned her head to look at Anna. "Of course not," she replied smugly. "That's why we're leaving to raid it tonight."

—O—

The first night Clarke's group pushed until dark, with the Trikru quickly setting up a simple camp and starting a fire in minutes. The six warriors accompanying Clarke and Elsa moved with the quiet precision of colleagues who had worked together for some time. The lack of speech was so simple and comforting that Clarke allowed herself to get lost in it for several minutes, enjoying the simple noises of the forest around them.

It was the sight of Elsa sitting down by the nearby creek that finally drew her attention. The queen had drawn her knees nearly to her chest, head resting on her knees as she silently watched the moonlight reflecting in the swiftly-flowing stream beside her. It was then that Clarke realized Elsa hadn't said a word for hours.

She softly thanked the Trikru for setting up camp and preparing the meal; she knew it wasn't expected, but she liked tweaking precedent when she could. She took her wooden bowl and cup with her as she made her way to the stream, roughly twenty meters away.

At the sound of approaching footsteps, Elsa lifted her head and looked up, seeing Clarke's face faintly lit in the moonlight. "Is everything alright?" she asked.

Clarke smiled and knelt beside Elsa, checking visually for snakes before quickly dipping the bowl in the stream, then briskly washing it out. "Funny, I was just about to ask you the same thing," she said quietly.

Elsa tipped her head back to look up at the sky, taking in the full, heavy moon towering over them. She sighed. "You'd think, after spending nearly thirteen years apart from Anna while we were growing up, I'd know how to handle being apart from her by now," she said longingly. "Or that the fifteen years we've been married would have better prepared me for the periods when we have to be separated."

Clarke dried her cup after rinsing it off, placing it in the bowl where she had laid out the towel on the grassy bank, then wrapping the utensils back up. She then sat down beside Elsa, facing the opposite direction so they could look at each other. "I want Lexa and me to have what you and Anna have," Clarke finally said, keeping her voice low. They were still within clear sight of the others in the camp, but something about the moment felt like it required some semblance of privacy and restraint.

She was surprised when she felt warm fingers slide across her left hand, gently grasping and holding her hand. She looked to Elsa, only to see eyes that shouldn't be as blue as they were in the dim light looking right back at her, framed with a caring smile that made Clarke's jaw tremble slightly.

"You do," Elsa said, voice so soft that it was barely louder than the burbling of the stream beside them, but the words hammered in Clarke's ears with the force of thunder, ringing for several seconds while Clarke tried to collect her wits.

"True Love is _real_ , Clarke, just like magic is real. It's rare, and it's not always easy to see, but it does exist. And you and your wife have it."

Clarke swallowed; she was trembling in the face of being told what she had thought about, what she had dreamed about, what she had _hoped_ for, ever since hearing the unique story of Elsa and Anna. "Does..." she began, words choking in her throat as she tried to swallow them back down. "D-does it... make it easier?" she finally managed to whisper. "When you have to be apart?"

Elsa's smile shifted with a hint of sadness in the moonlight, and she released Clarke's hand enough to give it a motherly pat. "No," she admitted. "But it gives you strength to get through those times when you can't be with her. Because I know that no matter where I am or where Anna is, our love binds us in a way that can only be felt, not seen."

Clarke nodded, wondering when she suddenly became such an emotional wreck. And then the realization dawned on her: she was _married_. She had a wife, someone to build a future with... in a world that had proven incredibly adept at yanking hope and life away in the most brutal ways possible.

She had something to lose now. Something incredibly, indescribably precious.

"How do you do it?" Clarke asked, her throat raw and voice hoarse as she looked away from the stars and back at Elsa. "Kiss your kids goodbye, trust them and your friends to run your kingdom and step into a world where it feels like everything and everyone wants to kill youand the ones you love?"

Elsa blinked a few times, unsure for a moment of whether Clarke was being critical of her and Anna's decision to travel to this world or whether it was honest curiosity asking a question in a poorly-worded fashion. And then she remembered something crucial, something she and Anna had been told that first night they had been able to sit and talk with the two visitors from another world.

Clarke was just six years older than Elin and Erin. A bit _less_ than six years, actually, as the twins would be turning fourteen in a few months.

Elsa felt her heart break at that sobering realization. Clarke, and to a slightly lesser extent, Lexa, were just outside of being children themselves, still in the throes of adolescence, and the cruelty of fate had forced them into roles that would be heartbreakingly painful for experienced adults... exactly as fate had forced the same upon her and Anna, at almost the same age.

So Elsa bit back the sharp reply she had been prepared to make, and she took a moment to soften her words and voice. For once, her powers being hesitant to work in this world was a good thing, otherwise plummeting temperature would have given away her irritation at Clarke's question. "We do it," Elsa said finally, "because it needs to be done. Because we have friends who could use our help, and because we're in a position where we can."

Patiently, she held Clarke's gaze for several seconds, neither of them blinking or looking away. "You already know the answer, Clarke, because it's why _you_ do what you have to do. Because it needs to be done, because you're capable of carrying the burden, and because you can't look away while other people are suffering. Because you have a responsibility to others who look up to you and follow you. Because you're a good person, and a person who needs to do good."

Clarke made a noise that hinted of disgust. "I don't feel like a good person sometimes."

"That's because you care enough to question what you're doing," Elsa quickly replied. "To ask if you've done enough, if it was worth the cost to you physically and emotionally. To ask if what you did was _right_ , or if it was _easy_."

Clarke smiled, looking down at the flowing water for a few seconds before looking back up at the blonde intently watching her. "You're a pretty good mom, you know that?" she said, voice breaking slightly.

Elsa's eyes practically sparkled, and again Clarke wondered if there was something to her magic making them look so blue, even at night. "That's one of the highest compliments I could ever receive," Elsa replied. "Thank you."

"I mean it. You and Anna, you have just, such a _gentle_ way about you, that it's easy to forget that you've raised three daughters together. And done a really damn good job, from what I can tell."

Now it was Elsa's turn to laugh, briefly but fully. "Well, I hope you never have to see either of us when we're not being 'gentle,' because it might frighten you."

"I hope so too," Clarke answered softly. "Thank you. For coming with us, to help."

"Of course," Elsa said politely. "Arendelle will not turn its back on a friend. Neither will Anna nor I."

Clarke gestured at the stream. "Is your magic getting any easier?"

Elsa looked the blonde for a few moments before she turned to look at the creek. "I've learned a bit more," she said. "For instance," she said, extending her right arm over the water. "I've learned it's much easier to do this," she said, dipping the tip of her finger into the creek and sending a pulse of magic to freeze the surface solid for several feet around her before lifting her finger out and letting the ice crumble back into water, "than it is to do this." Now she held her hand several feet over the water, and she had to lightly strain to freeze the surface of the creek solid once more, the solidification spreading significantly more slowly than it had the first time.

"So distance is important," Clarke remarked.

Elsa nodded. "Yes, much more than it is back home. My powers are also slower to respond and to react, and as you've already seen, it's much more draining to use them than I'm used to."

Clarke considered all that as she thought about how quiet Elsa had been through the day. "Do you think your magic is protecting you from the radiation?" she finally asked.

Elsa tilted her head. "I hadn't considered that," she admitted. "I haven't felt any effects from this invisible toxin you spoke of since we've been here, but I suppose I wouldn't if the cold was shielding me from its effects." Immediately Elsa's mind went to the next logical place, and she felt a cold gnawing of concern in the bottom of her gut.

"Do you think..."

Elsa's blue eyes snapped back up to focus at Clarke, stopping the other blonde's words. "I... I don't know," Elsa finally admitted after several long seconds of consideration. "Anna has a connection with the cold herself, slightly different than mine, so hopefully she'll be protected as well," Elsa spoke, trying to reassure herself as much as she was Clarke. "She's not in any pain, at least."

Clarke nodded, unsure if Elsa could somehow actually feel Anna through their magic or if she was just trying to convince herself. "I don't want either of you to get hurt trying to help us," she finally said.

"It's a risk we're willing to take for our friends," Elsa said, looking back at the camp to see that all of the Trikru were standing up and looking in their direction, possibly to make sure Clarke was safe but more likely watching what Elsa had done with the creek. With a flick of her wrist, Elsa dismissed the magic keeping the surface of the creek frozen, causing the sheet of ice to crumble back into water with a light splash.

"I think our companions are a bit nervous about my magic," Elsa said quietly, a slight grin on her face. "It doesn't bother me. It's just funny. Freya knows they're more polite about their curiosity than some have been over the years."

Clarke stood, extending a hand to help Elsa up as well. The queen politely accepted Clarke's hand but took her feet with only minimal assistance. "Make sure you make one of those little ice houses to sleep in, like you did for you and Anna," Clarke whispered, patting Elsa's back as they started back toward the main camp. "They'll love it."

—O—

The full moon shined through the dark night as Anna looked up at the steep slope of the ridge atop which the citadel Coldspire rested. The walls of the fortress were clearly visible from the valley below, sheer stone that stretched across the entire narrow ridge, lit by the torches placed at the corners of the fortress. Only a single road approached it from the front, long and winding to force an attacking army to slowly make their way up the road, exposed to attack the entire way. Its occupying force knew how to use the land and environment to their benefit, and they were well-accustomed to the frigid temperatures here.

It _was_ a well-defended place, Anna had to admit. But tonight it was going to fall.

—O—

" _So a direct attack is out of the question," Anna asked as she and Lexa examined the detailed drawn map of the fortress and the old, strangely marked map of the mountains around it. A small table had been set up outside Lexa's tent, much smaller than her usual traveling quarters due to the need to travel light and fast. It had taken them two days of hard riding with the eight warriors Lexa had chosen to accompany them, but they were finally near the Azgeda mountain citadel. They had set up camp under the cover of thick evergreens, further shielded by the layer of snow that always seemed to be falling this far north._

" _Absolutely," Lexa nodded. She placed the tip of her index finger on the hand-drawn map of the fortress, indicating the serpentine path leading to the fortress's massive metal gates. "The curves of the path prevent an army from closing with speed, providing multiple opportunities for the archers on the walls to whittle away at an attacker's numbers as the invading force has to twist and turn back and forth, moving in a predictable pattern. The curving path also drastically limits the effectiveness of any rams or siege engines, both by increasing the distance that has to be covered to actually reach the gates as well as removing any chance to build up momentum for a charge."_

 _Lexa slid the hand-drawn map around, pulling the worn multicolored map with incredibly clear details, something she called a "satellite imaging" map, closer. "Coldspire sits here," Lexa indicated, pointing first at a rectangular structure, then at a small line that looped back and forth on the map. "Here is the circuitous path to the front gates," she added, tapping twice. "And here," she said, sliding her finger to a much smaller line on the opposite side of the fortress, "is a supply road, used by the Azgeda when the fortress needs to be provisioned. Far too small to bring a large force, but a small force could use it to reach the citadel... IF the Azgeda didn't take precautions to prevent an attacker from doing that very thing."_

 _Anna thought for a moment as Lexa paused. "Okay," she finally said. "What precautions?"_

" _First, archers at lookout points scattered along the path's approach. Then a smaller but still quite sturdy gate at the rear of the castle, made of reinforced iron bars. But the most effective obstacle is the path itself."_

 _Lexa looked up; Anna met her gaze. "Go on," Anna encouraged her, curiosity piqued at Lexa's presentation. Which she was sure was the brunette's point. Lexa was going somewhere with this, so Anna was going to play along. Despite Lexa's serious demeanor most of the time, Anna had learned the woman also possessed a well-hidden appreciation for modest theatrics, which Anna thought was a perfectly good quality, considering she possessed it as well._

" _The path has a significant slope as it rises to the citadel, with its sides falling away to nothing but steep cliffs on both sides through most of its length. The only safe way onto the path is deep in Azgeda lands, guarded constantly. There are a few places where the slope is more reasonable and could scaled in good weather, but once on the path there remains one final problem that must be surmounted._

" _The Azgeda have channeled the small stream that feeds the citadel so that they can use it to flood the pathway with water, kept from spilling off the path by small walls built along the sides of its length. The walls are just barely knee-high; ineffective to keep someone from falling off the sides, but perfectly suited to direct water down the sloped road. No attackers have ever been able to use this supply road to reach Coldspire because the Azgeda use the water flow, the low temperature and the high altitude to create a solid sheet..."_

 _Lexa paused as Anna began to grin madly._

" _... of ice."_

—O—

"Are you ready?" Anna asked over her shoulder.

Lexa's arms tightened around Anna where she sat behind the Arendellan; the two of them were both on Anna's frost mount, looking at the angled side of the ridge leading up to the supply path. The magical creature was more than strong enough to carry both women, with Anna holding the reins and Lexa seated behind her. There had been a bit of adjustment required with Lexa's sword and scabbard, but shifting her belt to the side had corrected that.

The "bulletproof vest," as Clarke had called it the morning she had left for Arkadia, wasn't the most comfortable thing Lexa had ever worn, but she understood the need to protect herself from arrows during this attack. While Anna would be the one exposed to frontal attack during their ride, Lexa's back would be exposed to any archers they left in their wake. It had taken some effort on her houmon's part to convince Lexa to even touch anything that came from _Maunon_ , but in the end Lexa had succumbed to practicality (and her houmon's very earnest concern for her safety) and agreed to take it with her for the raid on Coldspire. She had quickly adjusted to the garment's modest weight; in fact, it reminded her of the weighted training vests she used to wear during her childhood training.

"Lexa?"

Pushing the reminiscence aside, Lexa focused on what they were about to do. "I am ready," she replied. "And you're sure that—"

The abrupt jerking of the horse beneath them cut off Lexa's words, and she nearly bit her tongue at the sudden surge forward. The protective enchantment Elsa had placed on her to protect against the cold was continuing to work, thankfully, or the icy saddle and the frost mount's body beneath her and between her legs would likely have already started to cause frostbite to sensitive areas otherwise.

As they approached the slope of the ridge, Lexa swallowed her doubt about whether or not the magical creature they were riding could climb the snow-covered side of the ridge, even at this relatively minor grade. Those doubts were quickly dispelled when she felt the pull of gravity against her body as the steed began to power its way up the snowy incline, its hooves somehow finding traction where none should have existed. The horse was moving slower now, but its legs continued to churn beneath them, causing Lexa to cling uncomfortably to Anna out of necessity as gravity tried to pull them off the saddle.

"I don't like being the one holding on," Lexa said quietly, prompting a quiet chuckle from Anna.

"Really," she said sardonically. "I never would have guessed that."

Lexa _might_ have rolled her eyes, but she would deny it if asked later. "No need to sound smug about it," she replied.

And then suddenly the world tilted again, and they were atop the frozen path. Lexa looked down to see the partially translucent sheen of thick ice beneath them, the moonlight casting a silvery shine on the opaque surface.

Anna lifted the hood of her ice mail over her head, leaving her twin braids hanging out to each side of her neck, then leaned to her left and grabbed her shield, sliding it on her left forearm and angling it slightly as she positioned it in front of head.

Though she couldn't see Anna's face, Lexa could hear the giddiness in her voice as Anna said, " _Now_ it's time for some fun."

—O—

While she would have denied it to anyone save Clarke, there had been a few times in Lexa's life when she was truly afraid.

Her first training session with Anya, when the acerbic warrior had stopped just short of driving a sword through Lexa's throat when the young girl became frustrated and let her guard falter while sparring with her mentor.

The first time she kissed Costia, when a newly-teenaged Lexa began to doubt whether the chance of being Heda was truly worth what she would have to sacrifice.

When she had been told of Costia's abduction by Nia, for Lexa knew she would never see the girl she had fallen in love alive again.

When death rained from the sky in the form of a "missile" sent by _Maunon_ to kill Clarke and her both.

When she heard gunshots in Clarke's chambers, and feared for the life of the woman she had sworn never to fall in love with, but did anyway.

And now she could add to the list riding upon a galloping horse, moving _much_ faster than any horse she had ever ridden, racing up a narrow ice-covered pathway with sheer cliffs falling away on both sides, hanging on for dear life to a possibly insane redheaded queen who insisted on _laughing_ as they leaned sharply into each turn while arrows whizzed past them.

It was the lack of control that made her so uncomfortable, Lexa knew. Had she been the one guiding the horse, there wouldn't have been the feeling of not being in control of her life, but even so, gods, it was _exhilarating_.

Leaning with Anna through the bends and turns of the path, feeling the cold air rush by her head, the arrows invisible in the night until they were close enough to be heard as they shot past, feeling the horse thundering beneath them as it traversed the icy path as smoothly and securely as it would a grassy field...

It sang to the wildness in Lexa's black blood, terrifying and elating her at the same time. They were two women attacking a fortress by themselves, and somehow, someway, Lexa knew they had a chance.

They had been past the first archers before the Azgeda even had a chance to ready their bows. The second archers didn't have time to get a shot off before they were past them as well, their arrows falling well short of their speeding target. The third pair of archers managed to come close with their shots, but other than one arrow that deflected off Anna's shield, they had missed as well.

"How fast can this horse run?" Lexa called out, over the rushing wind blowing against their faces. The mountains to their right and the valley to their left were mere blurs as they raced up the solid sheet of ice.

"I don't know!" Anna replied, guiding Lexa as they leaned into another curve in the path. An arrow flashed in front of them, passing from their right to their left but missing them by several feet. "Do you think I should go faster?"

Lexa swallowed rather than answer that question. "The last set of archers is coming up. They're within range of the rear gate, so we'll have to be quick to get past it, like we discussed."

"Got it!" Anna replied, lifting her shield slightly as she felt the device buzzing against her. The _thunk_ of an arrow deflecting off the shield was distinctive, and Lexa was glad she and Anna were keeping their heads down. Magic horse, magic armor or not, an arrow to the face would still kill either of them.

A _smack_ to the right made Lexa look down; she saw an arrow weakly dangling from Anna's dark green pants, unable to penetrate the mail beneath the fabric, before it tumbled away, wrenched loose by the speed of their approach.

"Use the horse for cover while I cut the bars of the gate," Anna said as they barreled forward, almost at the rear of the castle.

"But that—"

"It won't hurt him, I promise! Then once we're through, you get inside and free the prisoners while I deal with the guards in the courtyard. Once you're out of the open, I can really let loose."

Then the horse skidded to a stop, sliding for the first time since they had started riding. Probably before their momentum had slowed to a safe speed, Lexa slid off the horse, followed by Anna doing the same. Lexa's hand went to her sword but didn't draw the weapon yet, as she crouched behind the horse made of frost and snow.

Anna instantly was running toward the gate, a slightly larger than normal doorway with a gate made of thick iron bars running from top to bottom. She drew her sword as she held her shield in front of her as she charged, looking through the icy device as the archer standing behind the gate fired away at her. After the first shot struck her shield and splintered, his next shot was at her leg, hitting her in the right thigh with a sharp sting but failing to penetrate her armor.

Before he could take another shot, Anna slashed her sword, now glowing a bright blue-white as the temperature dropped even further around her, across the top of the gate with a backhand stroke. The blade sliced through the edge of the stone wall as easily as it did the iron bars, likewise scoring a thin line out of the stone on the other side of the gate. Then Anna dropped to a knee as she drove the sword into the gate at the bottom, ankle-high, raking the magic blade all the way across the iron bars again, eliciting a sharp cry from the archer when the tip of the sword caught the front of his feet.

As she pulled her sword free of the stone wall on her left, Anna ducked and covered herself. Lexa jumped over her, slamming her body into the gate and knocking the severed structure inward as they had previously planned, directly on top of the screaming Azgeda. She rolled off of him, drawing her sword and skewering the nearest man to her as she came out of her roll.

Lexa kept moving, spinning and slashing, using the Azgeda near her to keep the archers on the walls around them at bay as long as possible. Now Anna was running through the fortress's open area, a frosty haze surrounding her. Her sword and shield glowed brightly as she charged across the courtyard toward the main doors, temperature dropping by the second.

The first Azgeda to engage the Arendellan were a pair; the redhead ran directly at the left one, taking his strike on her shield and smiling as his sword shattered. She kept going, slamming her shield into him while driving forward with her strong legs, sending him to the ground. His thick clothes and brief contact kept the shield from burning him, but they were no hindrance to her sword slicing across his torso, nearly bisecting him where he lay. She turned backward and thrust her sword at the other Azgeda charging her, the suddenness of her movement causing him to impale himself on the glowing blade.

Rather than pull her sword out of the dead man, Anna instead jerked it to the side; his ribs and chest shattered into dark chunks of ice as the blade tore free. She spotted the main doors and quickly took stock of the Azgeda deployed around the citadel courtyard, most of whom were now moving to attack her.

Snow and sleet began to fall as the tiny amount of water vapor in the air began to freeze and precipitate due to the extreme cold. However, the Azgeda were possibly the best-equipped adversaries Anna had ever faced when it came to the cold; beating them in their home territory presented a strong challenge, but then she always did love challenges.

—O—

Lexa reached the door to the interior of the keep, leaving a half-dozen dead Azgeda in her wake. She could feel the cold intensify, gnawing at her back through her thick clothes and the protective enchantment, so she knew she had to hurry or risk finding the limit to her protection's effectiveness. Fortunately, she had killed the Azgeda guarding the door before he could close the small gate guarding the keep's door, leaving just a simple wooden door between her and the keep. Which was locked, of course, when she tried to open it.

Growling, Lexa picked up the dead Azgeda, hefted him over her shoulders, then charged at the door, slamming the corpse against the wood. The impact cracked the wooden door in a few places, but it was hard enough to break the locking pins, which had already been rendered brittle by the magical cold. Thankfully Elsa had included Lexa's sword, Clarke's gun and ammunition and all their knives in the protective enchantment, and as the keep's door flew inward from the impact of the dead Azgeda's body, Lexa drew both her sword and her dagger as she stepped over the corpse and entered the narrow hallway of the keep.

Any Azgeda standing between her and the prisoners was already dead. She just needed to prove it to them.

The first Azgeda that spotted her in the shadowy hallway growled and rushed her, sword extended and pointed toward her. Lexa crossed her dagger and sword, using them to push his blade down and away while she spun with the motion, driving her left elbow into his head hard enough to stun him, then using the dagger in her left hand to slash open his throat.

The man gurgled as he fell to the ground, dying as Lexa already moved past him.

The second Azgeda shouted, "H-Heda!" and turned and ran as if Lexa were the devil herself. Which, she supposed, she likely was, to him.

The third and fourth men who rushed her in the narrow confines succeeded in drawing blood, at least; Lexa used her sword to push away the nearer man's strike at her throat, using her dagger to stab him in the heart, but the man behind the nearer attacker thrust his sword between the dying man's arm and torso, slicing across Lexa's left arm. Her leather coat and long-sleeved shirt absorbed some of the impact, but she felt the sharp sting of a laceration across her upper arm.

She grabbed the dying man's still-standing body and shoved it hard to the left, trapping the second Azgeda's sword and arm against the wall while she drove her own blade deep into his neck. These, too, she left behind her as she kept moving forward, toward the large jail block.

As she kicked open the door to where the cells were housed, she saw the cowardly Azgeda from before standing with a crossbow pointed at a group of prisoners in a large cell.

"Hiding behind hostages?" Lexa growled, disgusted at the man's cowardice. "Dishonorable even for an Azgeda!"

The man trembled as he looked at her, but he kept the jerky aim of his crossbow pointed toward a group of prisoners in a corner. "I-I'll s-s-shoot them!" he stammered, his entire body quivering with fear. "K-kill them!"

Lexa slowly walked forward, eyes glaring from the black mask of warpaint inked across her face. "You may kill one, that is true," she said slowly and clearly. "But that life will bear a steep price."

"Stop!" he called out, gesturing with the crossbow toward the prisoners, who tried to slide out of the way, but he continued to track them out of the corner of his eye.

Lexa ignored his words, continuing her measured approach. "If you do kill one of them, then not only will I drag you back to Polis to face the Death of a Thousand Cuts, but I will force your family to undergo it first," she said, voice deadly serious. "I will find _all_ whom you care for and execute them for your own cowardice, and you will watch them die because of your _own actions!"_

The man's jaw trembled worse than the rest of his body as Lexa stopped just a meter away. The front of his crossbow tipped upward as he debated his options, and that was all the opening Lexa needed.

She sliced her sword in an upward stroke, catching his arms just short of the wrists. The crossbow discharged, sending a bolt clattering against the stone ceiling and ricocheting off the floor and wall before it struck a woman's leg, its momentum spent enough to only cause a minor injury.

The Azgeda's hands flew into the air with the crossbow, while Lexa lunged forward and drove the blade of her dagger through the front of the man's neck, using it to throw him to the floor. The blade tore a gaping gash through his throat from the movement, sliding free as his body collapsed to the ground.

—O—

Anna kept moving, whether it was a sidestep, a lunge or a spin as she fought her way across the citadel's courtyard. The sting of arrows occasionally hitting her was little more than an annoyance, while her shield and her constant unpredictable motion kept the archers from zeroing in on her unprotected face.

It seemed like the Azgeda weren't used to a sword-and-shield fighting style, which certainly worked to Anna's advantage, but they had definitely proven to be the most prepared foes she had ever faced when it came to the cold magic of her weapons. Their boots maintained traction even when patches of ice sprouted beneath their feet, and their well-layered clothing was very effective at keeping their limbs and blood from freezing. She had let their cold run unfettered for several minutes, and only a handful of the Azgeda had succumbed to exposure.

The rest of the dead, Anna had killed herself.

Finally she was at the main doors of the citadel, a trail of dead bodies spaced out on the stones of the courtyard behind her. She dodged the forehand slash from the nearer of the two Azgeda who had stayed by the large steel gates, jumping back quickly; an arrow flew through the space she had just occupied, striking the second Azgeda, still several feet away, just below his right knee.

Anna ran forward past the first Azgeda, catching his weak sword thrust on her shield, smiling to herself as she heard the metal splinter and fracture after contacting the protective device. She buried her own sword deep in the chest of the second Azgeda as he had bent over, clutching at the arrow in his leg; she released the sword, leaving it in the dead man's chest as he fell and pulling out her ice dagger as she reached the large metal gates. Without hesitation she plunged the dagger deep into the thick metal, all the way to the crossguard. Immediately the massive door began to frost around the embedded blade, the circle of rime thickening and growing larger each second.

Anna turned and extended her right arm, hand open and palm up, as the first Azgeda came at her again; obediently her ice blade slid itself free of the dead Azgeda, who was now entirely frozen solid, and flew back to Anna's hand, handle lightly smacking her palm as her indication that it was ready. She gripped the handle and met the man's charge by stepping forward, deflecting what appeared to be a small hand ax using her shield before thrusting the sword deeply between his left ribs and then slicing free of his torso.

Behind Anna, the circle of frost and ice continued to widen across and through the solid metal doors, which were beginning to groan and buckle as the intense cold wreaked havoc on their structural integrity. Now the effect had almost fully encompassed the right door and had spread to the adjacent left door, beginning where the massive doors touched and overlapped along their length.

Anna ignored that, keeping her back firmly to the doors and her head tucked behind her shield as she now faced four Azgeda closing on her. One of the archers continued to launch missiles at her, but the projectiles were more dangerous to Anna's attackers than they were to her, striking one woman in the shoulder as she swiped at Anna's leg with a spear.

The Azgeda finally began to demonstrate some teamwork when the injured woman and a man attacked from Anna's right, forcing her to turn to that side to meet their weapons. One of her other attackers then hit her squarely in the back with a mace; the flanged metal head crumbled from the chill of her ice mail, but the impact knocked the wind out of the Arendellan queen and sent her stumbling forward, directly into the two Azgeda.

The forward momentum sent Anna and the Azgeda woman to the ground, with Anna landing on her and knocking the wind out of her as well, judging by the startled gasp of air leaving the woman's lungs. Despite her own chest and back burning, Anna rolled forward, trying to keep her shield between her and her other attackers as much as possible as she rolled twice, then rose to a kneeling position.

Something clattered off of her raised shield, followed by the sound of numerous fragments hitting the stone surface around them. Anna slashed at the ankles of the nearest attacker around her, getting a shriek of pain as her sword cleaved a foot completely off of one leg and mostly off of another. Another arrow impacted her back, no doubt leaving a small welt from the impact but nothing worse than that. She twisted while still kneeling, managing to intercept a sword strike at her back with her shield and return a forehand swipe while rising to her feet again; the tip of her blade easily sliced through thick furs and leather, spilling crimson chunks of frozen blood from the gash across the Azgeda's abdomen; he fell to the ground screaming as his intestines and other organs froze into solid ice where the blade's intense cold had struck.

By now the doors had completely frozen, so Anna parried another blow, this time from a wooden spear—it looked like the last Azgeda were finally starting to learn, she noted—so she used a few more slashes from her sword to put some distance between her and her attackers before positioning her lips and whistling loudly and shrilly.

The unexpected noise made the remaining Azgeda pause, allowing the sound of icy hooves clopping against stone to carry easily to Anna's ears. She smiled as she saw her horse round the corner of the keep, only to frown slightly when she saw all the arrows sticking out of its snowy body.

"Aw, poor thing," she said, mostly to herself; being made of magical snow, the horse felt pain no more than Olaf did, but still. It was rude that they had shot the poor horse full of arrows.

Her frost mount reached a full gallop, aiming directly for the now-brittle metal doors. It drove itself into them, shattering them into large chunks of ruined metal and ice. The blow tore most of the protruding arrows free from the horse's body; its hooves bit into the cold stone of the path as the horse leaned into the first turn of the serpentine path, running out its momentum to keep from going off the edge of the road as it slowed down.

—O—

The Trikru warriors had begun surmounting the approach to Coldspire once they heard the fighting start. They watched as an eerie glow became visible from inside the fortress, steadily intensifying as they trudged up the long, winding path. They were halfway to the citadel when they saw the massive steel doors of the fortress blasted open, by the snow-white horse the foreign queen had been riding. Neither their Heda nor the redheaded woman were visible, but by the ongoing sounds of fighting and dying inside the citadel, it sounded like the two of them were still busy. They picked up their pace, not wanting all the battle to be done by the time they arrived.

—O—

As the last of Azgeda still standing in the fortress's courtyard fell over, Anna released a sigh of relief. She let her arms fall to her side, but she didn't release her sword or shield yet, both of which were glowing brightly enough to illuminate the walls on the far end of the courtyard.

She felt exhausted, even moreso than she normally would have after this kind of prolonged exertion. If this was what Elsa felt like here, no wonder her wife had been so tired.

She carefully turned in place, checking for any archers still up and trying to kill her, but the battlements were still now. One Azgeda archer that had been frozen in place toppled over and fell off as she watched, the body hitting the flagstones and shattering like glass. Finally satisfied that no one else was left trying to kill her, she willed her weapons to reduce the intensity of their cold radiation to where they would normally be without her enhancing it.

After still no signs of any Azgeda still moving or alive, she finally sheathed her sword. The glow of her shield instantly faded to almost nothing as the temperature returned to its usual frigid point instead of lethal levels of cold. Her muscles ached from the exertion, again, more than would have been expected, and she briefly contemplated lying down on the ground. However, she decided against that when she realized that it might startle Lexa or the Trikru when they found her.

"Anna!"

Hearing her voice coming from the direction of the keep pepped Anna up a bit. "Lexa?" she yelled back in reply, jogging toward the door leading inward. As she ran, she held her right hand open behind her and summoned her ice dagger from the wreckage of the main doors; seconds later, the weapon slid against her fingers, and she tucked it back into its sheath at her side.

Before Anna could reach the keep door, Lexa looked out, sword visibly brandished, not trusting enough to step out of the cover of the corridor just yet.

"It's okay," Anna said. "They're all dead."

Lexa's eyebrows rose. "Impressive."

"Thanks!"

"The prisoners are freed, and the Azgeda guarding them are dead as well," Lexa said, sheathing her own sword. She had surveyed the area herself, and there were no signs of movement beyond her and Anna. She stepped carefully when she left the keep, as the flagstones of the courtyard were iced over. "I've armed the healthiest of them in case any of the Azgeda remain hidden. When the rest of the warriors are here, we can search the rooms thoroughly. One of the prisoners has a minor injury from a crossbow bolt, so she will need to be tended to before we can set out for Polis."

A soft clopping noise drew their eyes back to the gate, only to see Anna's ghostly white horse come loping back into the courtyard.

"Your horse appears to have been shot," Lexa observed, drily, as the horse happily made its way to the two women, ignoring the few arrows still jutting out of its snowy body.

"Uh huh," Anna replied.

"Multiple times."

"Uh HUH."

"It doesn't seem to be bothered very much."

Anna smiled and ran her fingers through the horse's mane, composed of long fibers of frost identical in appearance to hair, pausing to pull an arrow out of its head and toss the projectile onto the ground. "They don't feel pain unless Elsa wants them to, and neither one of us likes anything to suffer," Anna said simply, plucking the another arrow out of the horse's body. "That's why I told you to take cover behind him outside. I knew being shot wouldn't hurt him."

When the horse bumped Anna with its head, nuzzling her chest, she laughed and rubbed his neck. "No, it wouldn't hurt you, would it, boy?" she said, ending with a playful voice, like she would address a child. "Would it? Would it?" she repeated in baby-talk as she petted the horse's head lovingly. "I think you might have earned a name after this, don't you?"

"HEDA!" came a shout from the main entrance.

Lexa turned to see her warriors run into the citadel, only to stop and skid when they gawked at the bodies strewn across the courtyard. Most of the corpses were more-or-less intact, although a few had been shattered into irregular chunks and fragments of grotesquely-colored ice. A thin layer of ice coated the entire courtyard and most of the bodies of the dead Azgeda by now, causing the Trikru to slip and slide briefly when they tried to move.

"Oh, sorry about that!" Anna said, after she saw them slipping on the ice. She closed her eyes and told the ice that it was alright for it to go away now, and added _thank you very much for helping_ ; after a few moments, the ice evaporated.

"Are you hurt?" Lexa asked, seeing Anna wince slightly when she opened her eyes after the ice disappeared.

Anna shook her head, although honestly she did hurt some, particularly in her back where she had been hit by the mace. But she had felt another moment of draining when she had dismissed the ice, and now her skin was starting to tingle slightly, as if it was windburned.

But she didn't get windburned.

"I'm okay, I think," Anna finally said, giving Lexa a smile. "But that took more out of me than I expected. I guess I feel the drain here, too, not just Elsa."

Lexa nodded. "Clarke surmised that while your magical weapons can freely access the magic already instilled into them, they must draw some power from you to work. It would make sense that using them here would fatigue you."

Anna nodded. "Yeah, I guess that could be it."

One of the Trikru stopped in front of them, looking uncomfortably at the snow-white horse, which simply nickered at him in return. He swallowed, then handed a large but surprisingly light leather case to Anna.

"Oh, thanks!" Anna said, smiling as she tied the case to the saddlebag on her horse's flank. She then untied the knot holding the case closed and retrieved a quiver of glittering silvery arrows, smiling at the sight of the matching ice bow inside the case.

She looked back up at Lexa. "Let's go deal with those archers we left along the path."

Lexa smiled back in return, and her fearsome warpaint made the expression more feral than pleasant. "Let's."

—O—

 **Author's Afterword:** Next chapter brings the Clarke/Pike confrontation, which I've been quite eager to commit to pixels. Elsa also gets to meet the Skaikru, although which of the two is more shocked by the other is going to be a close call. I also promise a reunion for another couple, although which one I'm not naming just yet (although it should be reasonably easy to guess; I'm not throwing any curveballs here).

Thanks for reading, and I'll see you with the next chapter soon!


	11. Chapter 11: Seeking My Heart

**Author's Note:** Welcome back! Now it's time to shake things up at Arkadia.

Cover Art for the story is from the LexaRecovery tumblr. Stay strong together.

 _I do not own the television show "The 100" or make any claims upon it or its characters. Similarly, I do not own Frozen, its characters or any Disney characters or property. All these characters are used under the concept of Fair Use, and I make no profit or income from using any of them._

 **Our Fight Is Not Over**

by Jo K.

Chapter 11: Seeking My Heart

 _What in this world keeps us from falling apart_

 _No matter where I go I hear the beating of our one heart_

 _I think about you when the night is cold and dark_

 _No one can move me the way that you do_

 _Nothing erases this feeling between me and you_

 _I drove all night to get to you_

 _Is that alright_

 _I drove all night, crept in your room_

 _Woke you from your sleep to make love to you_

 _Is that alright_

 _I drove all night_

-Roy Orbison, "I Drove All Night"

—O—

Seeing the arrow strike the crude target squarely in the inner ring of the bullseye made Monroe grin. "Yes!" the fiery redhead said, grinning.

"A very nice shot, Mon-Roe," agreed the Trikru girl standing behind her, smiling at the Skaikru's progress. "You have improved greatly. Soon you will be able to hunt without being dependent on your Skai weapon."

While the words were intended to be heartening, they had the opposite effect on Monroe. "I, uh..." she began, hesitantly. She felt her eyes burn but refused to cry in front of the Grounder girl. "Thanks," she tried again, not letting herself meet the girl's curious gaze, because she was sure there would be nothing but curiosity and concern in those eyes, and Monroe knew she didn't deserve either one after what she had done to the Trikru.

A hesitant touch at Monroe's left forearm made the petite redhead jump; her eyes shot to the side, only to see the confused hazel eyes of the young girl watching her. Dido, the young girl who had been the first to offer gifts to Harper a few weeks ago, found a reason to stop and check on _Jusdonosir_ , as the Trikru referred to Harper, and Monroe every few days. Most times the girl would shyly offer them more handmade gifts, from clothes to tools; sometimes it would be freshly killed rabbits or deer, already cleaned and ready to be cooked.

After Harper had made her peace with the hero worship the fourteen-year-old seemed to have for her and Monroe had been able to put aside the twinge of jealousy she felt from the way the young girl gazed at Harper, they had allowed themselves to relax more around the young girl. If she planned on attacking them for what Monroe had done as part of Pike's death squad, there had certainly been no shortage of opportunities over the last few weeks, but her visits seemed to be due to a heady mix of admiration and curiosity on the young girl's part rather than any lingering animosity or malevolent intentions.

Grounders continued to visit Harper regularly, and now the visitors weren't confined to just Trikru. After any strangely-attired Grounders came and paid their respects, Dido was quick to point out where they came from or which clan they represented; she tended to always be around when a group approached Harper or Monroe, not always visible but always seemingly knowledgeable about who had visited and what they had brought, so Monroe suspected the girl watched from some hidden lookout point.

"So why do you watch when other people come to visit Harper?" Monroe asked, trying to change the subject and get her mind off her complicity in the murder of several hundred Trikru.

"Several reasons," the girl replied.

When no further explication followed, Monroe rolled her eyes. Grounders and the way they rationed their fucking words. Lord knows, she wasn't one for nonstop chatting, but the opposite extreme could be just as annoying. "And would you mind telling me some of those reasons?" she asked, keeping her voice civil. The kid really did mean well. Although, Monroe considered, maybe she shouldn't think too much of the girl as a kid, when she was just a couple of years younger than Harper and her.

"I like to learn about other clans," the girl said with a fractional shrug of her shoulders, the gesture familiar enough to make Monroe smile slightly. "I want to make sure I do not give _Jusdonosir_ or you a gift that you have already received, unless it is something edible." She looked into Monroe's green eyes. "And I do not always trust others," she said in a low voice. "It is good that you always have a weapon nearby when _Jusdonosir_ is receiving pilgrims."

"So you're trying to look out for us," Monroe said, trying not to think about the implications of the girl's use of the word _pilgrims_.

Dido nodded in reply.

"Even though sometimes you're nowhere to be found."

Another nod. "I am nearby."

Monroe nodded herself. "But if you're that far away, what could you do if someone did try to harm Har—uh, _Jus-doh-no-seer_?"

Hazel eyes stared intently at Monroe for two seconds, then the girl whipped around, drawing an arrow from the quiver on her back, nocking it and firing it in under three seconds.

Monroe stared down at the target, the arrow now embedded deeply in the bullseye still flexing slightly from its momentum.

"I would kill them," Dido spoke softly.

Monroe turned to look at the lanky girl; she would almost certainly end up taller than Monroe, as she was already the same height at the short-haired redhead. When she looked back at Monroe, there was a defiant determination, yes, but there was something more, too. Something hard.

"You've killed before," Monroe said.

Dido nodded. "I... was eight," she said, her voice hesitant. "A raider from the Glowing Forest, during an attack on my village. I shot her in the chest with my training bow and one of my _nontu's_ —my father's arrows."

Monroe considered her actions before she slowly reached up and gently gripped the girl's bony left shoulder with her right hand. "It fucks you up," she said to the younger girl, getting a slow, somber nod in reply.

"I would be happy to never kill a human again, now that the Maunon are all dead," Dido said, as if she were admitting a shameful secret. "Hunting must be done, to feed and clothe our people. I show respect to the animals I claim, never wasting a life that I take. They die for a purpose. But I have no desire to take life."

Monroe refocused her efforts on her suddenly burning eyes. "That we have in common, kid," she said, turning to look back at their archery target, her voice strained with emotion. "That we have in common."

Abruptly Dido's head spun to face away from Monroe, back into the woods. "Something's happening," the girl said, right before the sound of leaves crunching became audible to Monroe.

A Grounder became visible, running not exactly toward them but more obliquely in their direction. Dido whistled loudly, causing the Grounder to shift direction and head toward her and Monroe.

"What's going on?" Dido asked as the Trikru, a young man who appeared to be in his late teens or early twenties, stopped and took a few seconds to gather his breath.

Monroe couldn't understand what the man said, but whatever it was made Dido's eyes widen. Then the man took off, running in the same direction he had been previously.

"What the hell was that about?" Monroe asked, beginning to grow concerned. Harper was still on her shift of guard duty, on Arkadia's wall. And the direction the Trikru man had been running was roughly in the direction of Arkadia.

Dido turned to look at Monroe, her hazel eyes dancing with excitement. "Wanheda has returned," the girl said, with a voice that touched on reverence. "She will handle the situation with the Skaikru."

"Who's that?" asked Monroe, confused but feeling her concern for Harper creep up even more. "I've never heard that name."

Now Dido smiled. "I believe you know her as Clarke."

It took Monroe all of four seconds to process the girl's last sentence. When she had, she immediately took off at a run herself, toward Arkadia.

"Wait, Mon-Roe!" Dido shouted, running to catch the petite redhead. "You should not run! Your breathing..."

"Fuck my breathing," Monroe replied, over her shoulder. "If Clarke's come back to deal with Pike, then shit's about to go down, and Harper's going to be in the middle of it!"

—O—

It was eerily quiet as Clarke and Elsa guided their horses out of the forest and onto the road leading to Arkadia. Indra had told them that there had been no challenges to the blockade since it had been established, and she relayed what Marcus Kane and Clarke's mother Abby had told her and Octavia when they met several days ago.

"That was the field where the Trikru sent to guard Arkadia were killed," Clarke said quietly, pointing to a gentle slope to their left. "Where Pike and his death squad started murdering them in their sleep."

"And they all had the small cannons you spoke of earlier?" asked Elsa, looking at the field. Bits of cloth and detritus were still scattered across the earth and grass, but she couldn't see any bodies.

"Yes," Clarke replied. "Rifles. They're bigger than the pistol I carry. They're capable of shooting up to thirty shots before having to reload."

"Always a dangerous endeavor," Elsa said softly. "Making it easier for people to kill, with less effort and less consequence to their actions."

They rode quietly for a few minutes, toward the now-visible gate in the fence surrounding Arkadia.

"After what I've seen since I've been on the ground," Clarke replied, "I think I'd have to agree with you, Elsa."

—O—

"Shit," Harper swore softly as she looked through the binoculars, scrutinizing the pair of women slowly approaching Arkadia on horseback.

"What is it?" asked David Miller, chief of the guards and Harper's usual partner when on duty. Nathan Miller, David's son, was good friends with Harper and Zoe Monroe, and even after Monroe's need to leave the guards due to her pulmonary scarring, David respected both of the young women for their hard work ethic and general fearlessness.

Harper lowered the binoculars, her hair shining a dark blonde in the late morning sunlight. She turned to look at David, a look of concern on her face. "It's Clarke Griffin."

David looked at her for a few seconds, his face vacillating between emotions until she offered him the binoculars. Taking them, he lifted them to his face and adjusted them to his eyes. Yes, it definitely was Clarke Griffin, dressed mostly in the Grounder style she had adopted. His eye lingered over the dark blue strip of cloth hanging over her right shoulder. It bore strong similarity to the blood-red decoration worn by the Commander of the Grounder Clans, and considering she and Clarke tended to show up together, he doubted it was coincidence that Clarke was now wearing such a decoration.

Rank, most likely, he surmised. Although he wouldn't put it past the Grounders to claim ownership using visible means, so it could possibly mean that the Commander had marked Clarke as hers, although whether that meant as a subordinate, paramour or property wasn't entirely clear.

The woman with Clarke, though, was entirely strange. He had never seen her before, but she was dressed like something out of a child's storybook. The horse she rode was a gleaming white, so intense in color that it seemed to shine in the sunlight, and it looked like the woman was actually wearing a _gown_ , for God's sake. The silver and pale blue fabric of the dress sparkled and shimmered in the sunlight, even through the binoculars. Closer examination revealed that what he had initially taken as a skirt might actually be baggy pants that merely resembled a dress's skirt, which would certainly fit more with the Grounders' style of dress. But still, the platinum blonde hair, the fair skin, the elegant fabric and rich colors she was wearing, none of it meshed with what he had seen from the Grounders, with a single exception: She wore a small sword on the white belt buckled around her waist.

"Attention all guards," Harper spoke into the radio, pulling David's attention from the approaching due. "We have a Code 100. I repeat, a Code 100. Clarke Griffin is approaching the main gate, accompanied by an unknown female who appears to be a friendly with her. No sign of any Grounder activity. The two of them look like they're alone."

Harper glanced over at David, who just looked at her. She was doing fine; the "Code 100" comment wasn't exactly protocol, but he'd let that slide. It did likely serve the purpose of getting the other guards' attention.

Harper swallowed, hoping Nathan's dad couldn't sense just how nervous she really was. If he was aware of what "Code 100" truly meant, he wasn't showing any signs of reacting to it.

After the other guard stations quickly reported back their acknowledgment of the message, David keyed his own microphone. "Let's remember that Clarke is still one of us, people," he said calmly. "Keep the guns down and fingers off the triggers."

Harper turned to look at the older man, starting to gray in his temples. "Thank you, sir," she said. "Clarke's..." She hesitated, uncertain of exactly to put it into words. "Clarke's special to us," she finally said. "She... She kept us alive, when the rest of us were too stupid to take care of ourselves."

David smiled. He gripped the smaller woman's right shoulder, squeezing it the way a proud parent would a child. "You're a good woman, Harper, and a good guard. Don't ever think anything different."

Harper nodded. "Yes, sir," she replied. Looking back up, she saw Clarke and her companion were approaching the gate. "Gate unit, open the gate," she said into her radio. "All clear up here."

" _Affirmative,"_ came the reply back through the device, followed by the metallic clanking of the locking bars being retracted.

—O—

As the large, irregular metal doors began to swing outward, Clarke resisted the urge to relax. "Elsa, you should know that the last time I was here, I didn't exactly leave on the best terms."

Elsa smiled. "I know," she said calmly. "You told us the story of having to escape the last time you were here."

"I just..." Clarke began, then she trailed off. "I just really don't want you to get hurt, or caught in the crossfire or something. Your magic's not working as well as it usually does for you, and I'm worried about you."

"You will not go through this alone, Clarke," Elsa said firmly. "You are an ally of Arendelle... and you are our friend. I _will_ remain by your side while you do this."

"I appreciate the support," Clarke said, giving Elsa an honest smile. "Let's hope we won't need anything more than that."

—O—

Elsa looked up at the man and young woman looking down at them from the guard platform atop the main gate. The man had a darker coloration that reminded her of some men from Agrabah and the countries surrounding it, while the girl could have come out of Arendelle based on her sandy hair and fair features. They both held an unusual device, similar to a crossbow but without the arms of the bow.

"Are those the rifles they're holding?" Elsa asked Clarke, keeping her voice low.

"Yes," Clarke replied with the same soft voice.

"Are there many of them?"

Clarke sighed. "Unfortunately, yes."

Elsa nodded. "If possible, I'd like to see one before long. The more I understand how they work, the more I can do with them, although what you have already shown me regarding your weapon and its parts should suffice for what we plan today."

"I think I can manage that," Clarke replied. "Hopefully."

As they passed through the gates, Elsa felt her mouth open slightly as her eyes settled on the largest metal structure she had ever seen. "Balder's blue eyes," she swore softly, scanning the enormous length and size of the irregular metal habitat that used to be the Ark.

"Not as elegant or romantic as Arendelle Castle, but it does have its own grandeur," Clarke said, smiling.

"And it truly fell from the sky?" Elsa asked, turning back to Clarke. "And survived?"

"Barely, but yes. Believe it or not, but the whole Ark was actually MUCH bigger. This is only one section, the one that tolerated the landing better than the others we've found."

"How many sections were there?" Elsa asked, her mind slightly agog as Clarke brought her horse to a halt, and Elsa's mount followed suit. She was trying to consider how much metal it would have taken just to build such a structure; how to get something so massive into the sky and keep it aloft was simply unthinkable.

"Thi— Twelve," Clarke said, correcting herself.

"Heimdall's eyes," Elsa swore to herself. She turned back to Clarke. "And you're _sure_ you don't have magic of your own here?"

"Positive," Clarke nodded. "Although, an old author did make a famous statement about that subject. I'll tell you some other time."

A small crowd had begun to gather around the two women and their horses. No one had gotten close enough to touch either animal, but the gleaming coat of Elsa's horse was already drawing attention. The two women both dismounted; if she hadn't have happened to be looking at Elsa when the Arendellan climbed off her horse, Clarke would have missed the very subtle shifting of the fabric of Elsa's blue dress as the legs reformed themselves back into a long skirt once again.

"Clarke!" Monty called out as he ran toward them, keeping his voice below a shout. "What are you doing here?! If Pike catches you—"

"I came here _for_ him, Monty," Clarke replied.

"Well, that makes things a lot more convenient for both of us then, doesn't it?" called out a voice from the direction of the main body of the Ark.

Everyone turned to see Charles Pike striding toward the small crowd. He didn't have a weapon in his hand, but his pistol was holstered at his side. The two guards following him, however, both carried assault rifles.

Clarke pulled Monty into a hug. "It's good to see you, Monty," she said, patting his back, then running her hands down his arms. "You look healthy. Are you taking care of yourself?"

Monty looked back at Pike, who was over halfway to them by now. He turned back to Clarke. "Clarke... what are you doing?" he asked, thoroughly confused.

"I told you," Clarke said, using Monty to shield her from Pike's vision when she held up the stun baton she had just lifted from Monty's belt before sliding part of it up her right sleeve and concealing the rest in her right hand. "I'm here to deal with Pike. Now scoot, so you don't get caught in the crossfire."

She patted his shoulder, then gently pushed her way around him, walking calmly toward Pike. Elsa followed with Clarke, drawing close enough to whisper, "The rifles are more dangerous than the pistols, correct?"

"Technically, yes," Clarke replied quietly. "But both can kill us."

Pike stopped roughly fifteen feet away. Clarke kept walking until she was just a meter away from him, making the larger man and his two guards visibly uneasy.

"Are you scared of me, Pike?" Clarke asked, her smile visible.

"Absolutely not," he replied. "But I respect your ability to survive when you should, by all rights, be dead."

"As well you should," Clarke answered confidently. Dealing with the Kongeda had taught her a lot about intimidation and how to deal with it. "Charles Pike, I am here to take you prisoner and transport you to the Alliance capitol of Polis, where you will be judged for the crime of mass murder of three hundred Trikru warriors who had been sent to protect Arkadia."

Pike smiled. "Is that so? And who will judge me? You?"

"Oh no," Clarke replied, returning her own wicked smile. "You will be judged by Lexa, Commander of the Thirteen Clans." She paused before adding, "She's not known for her mercy."

Others were now gathering around the confrontation, although everyone was staying well back.

"That woman has no authority over me!" Pike spat harshly.

"Actually, she does," Clarke replied, keeping her words calm while raising her voice. "Arkadia has already joined the Thirteen Clans, an alliance formalized by the last Chancellor before you. That pact still stands." She leaned forward slightly. "You killed our _allies_ , Charles. Men and women who had been sent here to help protect you and the rest of Skaikru!"

"The Grounders don't believe in 'protecting' us!" he shouted back. "They're only waiting for the opportunity to kill us!"

"Bullshit!" Clarke yelled. "Lexa has recognized Skaikru as one of the Clans! Her job is to _protect us!_ But that's kind of hard to do when you're murdering people who are on your side!"

"THEY KILLED MY FAMILY!" Pike shouted, his face contorting with rage.

"The AZGEDA killed your wife, Charles! The Northern Clan who's broke from the Alliance and declared war on the rest of us! Lexa's assembling an army to go _fight_ and _kill them_ , and Skaikru is going to help!"

The two of them stared at each other fiercely for several seconds, Pike's chest visibly rising and falling with each angry breath. "Absolutely none of my people will do any such thing," he said, trying to force calm back into his voice, with limited success.

"Yeah, they will," Clarke replied confidently.

"I AM CHANCELLOR OF ARKADIA!" he shouted.

Clarke kept smiling as she calmly said. "I said this to a Chancellor before you, Pike, but I'll say it again." She leaned forward slightly once more. "You may be Chancellor, but _I'm_ in charge down here."

Pike flashed his teeth in a predatory smile. "We'll see about that," he said as he reached for his radio.

Clarke turned to look at Elsa, nodding ever-so-slightly. Elsa moved her hands, which had been down at her sides, behind her back. From that angle only a handful of people could see the white flash of light manifest around her hands as Elsa concentrated intently on the rifles in front of her while extending her focus over the entire camp; her hands glowed brightly for three seconds before the light disappeared as if it had never been there.

Due to this strange world, Elsa had to strain to work magic on so wide an area with so specific a target, and it was only by her years of experience as a ruler that she was able to keep the strain from showing on her face. Internally, it felt like she had just climbed a mountain, compressed into a few agonizing seconds. She shifted her legs slightly, widening her stance to improve her balance while she recovered from the drain of freezing the firing pins of all the rifles in Arkadia.

"All guards," Pike said into the radio. "If Clarke Griffin does anything other than kneel down on the ground and peacefully allow us to handcuff her in the next ten seconds, you are authorized to shoot to wound her. Do not deliberately shoot to kill."

—O—

In the guard tower above the gate, David Miller lowered the binoculars, a stunned look on his face. "Good God, Charles," he breathed out. "She's a kid."

"No, she's not," Harper said calmly.

David turned to see Harper standing directly beside him, the tip of her stun baton pressed into his side, her thumb on the trigger.

"She's Clarke Griffin," Harper continued. "All of us here owe her our lives, several times over."

Suddenly a cry came across the radio, followed by static, then another shout. Pandemonium carried across the radios for several seconds before things became quiet once more.

" _Miller here,"_ came through the radio.

"Go ahead," Harper replied, never taking her eye off David or her thumb off the trigger of her stun baton.

" _Post three is secure. Code 100."_

"Roger that," Harper replied.

" _Post four is secure, Code 100."_

" _Post two secure. Code 100."_

" _Post seven secure. Code 100."_

" _Post six secure. Code 100. We've got your back, Clarke."_

" _Post five secure. Code 100."_

Harper smiled innocently at David. "You've always been a fair, honest person, Mr. Miller," she said calmly. "And I really, really don't want to shock you. You've been one of the few adults here who hasn't consistently treated us like children. So can I trust you not to try to shoot Clarke, knock me out or do anything like that?"

David nodded silently, surprised as much by Harper's duplicity as by the impressive show of unity between the members of the 100 that had been accepted into the guards.

"Do I have your word?" Harper asked, seriously.

David Miller opened his mouth, then closed it as he considered his options. Finally he nodded. "You have my word."

Harper slid her radio back into its pouch on her belt, then she used her free hand to take his rifle from him. She ejected the rifle's clip one-handed, letting it clatter on the platform at their feet. She retracted the stun baton from his ribs, but she kept it in her hand.

"Why didn't you stun me?" David asked.

"I told you," Harper said with a sigh. "You've been good to Zoe, to me and to all the rest of us. And Nathan is a good friend of mine. I really don't want to have to tell him that I shock-sticked his dad. Some people pee on themselves when that happens, you know."

David looked her up and down again, then nodded. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

—O—

Significantly longer than ten seconds passed, with no shots fired. Even the guards behind Pike hadn't raised their guns, instead holding them awkwardly somewhere pointing at the ground and pointing at Clarke.

Pike turned to look over his shoulder. "I AM THE CHANCELLOR!" he shouted. "Shoot her!"

"They couldn't even if they tried."

Everyone turned to look at Elsa, who had drawn herself back up into her full regal bearing before speaking. She had fixed Charles Pike with a withering look that suggested he was somewhere between a biting fly and an insolent child in terms of annoyance.

"And who are you?" Pike said angrily, his patience worn thin and nerves fraying more with each second that passed with Clarke Griffin still standing defiantly in front of him.

"I am Elsa, Queen of the country of Arendelle," she replied coolly. "Sworn ally of the Thirteen Clans, friend of Clarke and Lexa." She narrowed her eyes at Pike, who shivered momentarily. "And _you_ are an unstable, angry little man, blinded by fear and rage, trying to ease the anguish trapped inside you by killing all those you falsely hold responsible for your loss!"

Clarke carefully slid the stun baton a bit more out of her right sleeve, knowing that the guards would be watching her left hand and the pistol holstered on that side. She made sure to keep her left hand close to the gun but not touching it, to keep their attention focused there.

"Your term as Chancellor is over, Pike," Clarke said firmly. "No more murdering Grounders in their sleep. No more risking the lives of Arkadians by ignoring our Alliance."

Time itself seemed to hang for an impossibly long second, before several things happened in quick succession.

Pike drew his pistol, incredibly fast.

Clarke lunged forward, right arm extended with the stun baton out and active.

The two guards behind Pike finally raised their guns to their shoulders.

Elsa realized that in her focus on neutralizing the rifles around them, she had made the mistake of forgetting about the pistols. She felt her magic reflexively surge inside her, but it was unable to react instantaneously due to the nature of this world. Feeling all that in the bare span of half a second, she lunged to her right, pushing Clarke out of the way.

Knocked off balance by Elsa's push, Clarke had to throw herself off balance to stretch forward, finally making contact with Pike's left hip with the tip of the stun baton as she fell to the ground.

The guards pulled the triggers on their rifles; the frozen firing pins refused to move, and the rifles remained inert.

Pike's right hand finally reached chest-level, squeezing the trigger of his double-action pistol just as the electrical surge of the shock stick tore through his body, rendering him helpless.

The impossibly loud bang of the pistol going off, inches away from Elsa, followed instantly by the hardest impact she had ever felt in her life striking her left chest, spinning her body around as it drove her onto the ground.

—O—

As the Trikru and the rescued Azgeda prisoners finalized their preparations to leave Coldspire, Lexa and Anna stood by, quietly talking about the battle the night before.

Until Anna clutched her left chest, screamed and collapsed to the ground.

"ANNA!" Lexa shouted, uncertain as to what had just happened. She knelt down beside her friend, who was writhing on the ground moaning. There was no sign of an arrow or a wound, but she was clearly in agony. "Anna! _Anna!"_ She shook the redhead, only to have to scrabble backward out of the way when Anna suddenly shot to her feet, a wild look in her green-blue eyes.

"It's Elsa!" Anna cried out, utter panic on her face as she grabbed the front of Lexa's coat, pulling the brunette close, her own green eyes wide with surprise. "Elsa's been hurt!" Anna said, eyes starting to brim with tears. "I've got to go!"

Lexa nodded, and no sooner had she done that than Anna was running for her horse. "Anna, I'll send a scout with you!" she yelled. "He can guide you back!"

"No time!" Anna called out over her shoulder, not looking back. "I can feel where she is, and I need to be there with her!"

Her icy horse stood still as Anna shoved her left foot in the stirrup, pulled herself up into the saddle and grabbed the reins. He had already started forward when she slid her right foot into the other stirrup, building up speed as they ran the opening where the front gates of the fortress used to stand.

Lexa ran to the nearest ladder, climbing it quickly and running to the edge of the barrier atop the wall. She saw Anna riding her horse at full speed down the first straight section of the twisting path leading down from Coldspire. "You're going too fast," Lexa said to herself as Anna approached the first turn, a hairpin that nearly doubled back on itself.

" _Anna!"_ Lexa shouted, seeing that, magic horse or not, Anna was going far, far too fast to make the tight curve. The Trikru already atop the wall began shouting as well, even though there was no time for her to slow down.

Instead Anna pushed the horse to go _faster_.

"ANNA!" Lexa screamed as Anna's horse reached the edge of the narrow path, still accelerating—

And kept on going. Across thin air, leaving faintly glowing marks of white where its hooves would have struck ground, had any been there.

Lexa stared, dumbfounded, as she watched the horse gallop across nothing, heading in a straight line south-by-southwest, almost certainly the direction where Anna's beloved was.

"I pray that you reach her in time," Lexa whispered to herself. And to any gods who might be listening.

—O—

"ELSA!" Clarke screamed, crawling furiously across the ground to her friend. Already a bright scarlet stain was blooming over Elsa's left chest and shoulder. "Someone get my mom!" Clarke cried out as she bent over Elsa, taking in the blood coming out of the entry wound in her left chest. Quickly Clarke tore the bottom of her shirt, upward first, then to the side before tearing down again, removing a long strip of cloth. She folded it and pressed it firmly against the wound, trying to stop the bleeding.

Clarke looked around wildly, feeling a sense of relief when she saw Octavia. "Octavia!" she said, before stopping. "Octavia? How did you get here?"

The raven-haired girl gave Clarke a look of disbelief. "Seriously?"

"Right, never mind," Clarke replied. "Take Pike's pistol and cuff him."

"On it," Octavia replied, stopping to grab a rifle.

"Not the rifles, they've been disabled. Use his pistol."

" _Sha, wanheda,"_ Octavia replied fluidly, doing as Clarke directed.

The sound of running footsteps was followed by the gathered crowd moving aside to let Abby and Jackson through. They were joined by a gasping Monroe, soaked in sweat, and a young Trikru girl holding a bow.

" _Wanheda has killed the murderer Pike!"_ the girl gasped in Trigedasleng, drawing a look of annoyance from Octavia, as Abby and Jackson placed a stretcher beside Elsa.

Abby quickly began, "What h—"

"Pike shot her," Clarke said, still holding pressure on the wound with one hand while using her other to help Jackson and her mother roll Elsa toward Clarke, so they could slide the stretcher under her. "He was trying to kill me."

Abby looked up at that, eyes burning with fury, just as her mind registered the cold against her hands; no sooner had she and Jackson released Elsa's torso on the stretcher than the two of were both looking at their tingling hands. "She's freezing!" Abby said.

"It's her dress," Clarke said quickly. "Elsa—she's my friend, I'll explain in a bit, I promise—pushed me out of the way, resulting in her getting shot herself."

"There was no exit wound," Jackson said, always calm, as he tightened one of the straps around Elsa's torso and arms trying to ignore the hint of numbness fading from his hands. "Bullet's still inside."

"Let's get her to surgery," Abby said. "Clarke, another set of steady hands is always appreciated."

Clarke nodded. "I'll be right there," she said as the three of them stood up, Abby lifting the end at Elsa's feet and Jackson at her head. Marcus Kane finally arrived, hair askew; he looked like he had been trying to sleep and had just been woken up.

"Clarke!" Marcus said, smile spreading across his face and then just as quickly disappearing as she saw Pike's still form on the ground. "What—"

"Pike's been removed as Chancellor," Clarke said, starting to move past him toward the Ark. ""I have to go help Mom and Jackson try to save my friend's life, because Pike fucking _shot_ her. Help Octavia get him into a cell, please, and keep everybody else out of the brig for now."

"But..."

"I'll be down there as soon as I can, I promise! You're in charge until I'm out of Medical!" she called out, finally turning and running into the structure of the Ark.

—O—

"How has she not frozen to death?" Jackson asked quietly as he used trauma shears to cut through the spun ice fabric of Elsa's dress, releasing the material every few seconds to keep his fingers from going numb. "Whatever this is made of, it's as cold as ice."

"It _is_ ice," Clarke said a bit breathlessly as she reached the surgery suite. "Cold doesn't hurt her."

As Clarke shoved her hands first beneath the disinfecting spray, then the ultrasonic cleaner, her mother stopped the motion of her hands to look at her. "How is that possible? Some sort of mutation?"

Clarke shook her head, her blonde hair tossing lightly as she hurried back over the the table. _"Magic,"_ she said emphatically.

Seeing the dubious looks, Clarke laughed once. "I swear to God, it's really magic. I've seen it, several times. I'm sure she'll be more than happy to demonstrate, _once we save her life."_

That jarred the two doctors back into motion again. "Jackson, scan her to see where the bullet's lodged," Abby said, stepping back.

Jackson pressed the button for the fluoroscope; a soft click came from the ceiling, then an image appeared on the screen closest to them.

"That's not possible," Abby said, disbelieving what her eyes were showing her—a completely opaque image in the form of the woman lying unconscious on the table before them.

"How did the fluroscope not scan her?" asked Jackson. "It's like the scan was completely blocked."

"Her magic," Clarke said, smugly. "Try ultrasound. It's not harmful like the radiation of the fluoroscope."

"It's a tiny dose!" Abby said. "A thousand times less than what was used during the antibiotic crisis!"

Clarke ignored her, something she had years of experience at doing. "Jackson, get the ultrasound."

Quickly Jackson handed Clarke the ultrasound transducer. She looked at it for a minute, then handed it to her mother. "You were always better at this than I was," Clarke admitted. Abby looked at her daughter for a few seconds. " _Please_ , Mom," Clarke said. "She and her family _saved my life!_ Now we have to save hers."

Abby blinked, then nodded. She took the transducer and placed it over Elsa's sternum. Immediately the display screen flickered with a grayscale image as the ultrasonic waves began to resonate through Elsa's body.

"I'm pretty sure her magic is protecting her from the radiation here," Clarke said as the three of them watched the display. Her eyes flicked to the box displaying Elsa's vitals: her blood pressure and heart rate were stable, though understandably elevated, so that was reassuring. Maybe the bullet had missed her organs, although that was unlikely, considering where she had been hit. Clarke was sure that at least her left lung had been hit, based on where the entry wound was, and she was also concerned about the aorta and the left subclavian artery.

"I don't see a foreign body at all," Abby said after a tense minute. She pressed a button to activate the Doppler quality; immediately the screen showed a splash of red and a splash of blue. "No free blood in the chest cavity. Aorta and subclavian vessels look fine."

"There was no exit wound," Jackson said. "No blood on her back at all."

Clarke put her hands beneath Elsa's left side and lifted up, making Abby pull the transducer wand away. The protection from cold Elsa had placed on her and Lexa was still working, as she was able to hold Elsa's dress without the slightest discomfort. With the left top of the dress cut away and pulled down, Clarke could see the bare skin of Elsa's upper back, fair with ghostly hints of freckles here and there. There were a few minor abrasions where she had hit the ground, but no open wound. "No exit wound at all. You're right, Jackson."

Clarke replaced Elsa back on the operating table; Abby handed the transducer back to Jackson, who replaced it on the its cradle.

"Where the hell is that bullet?" Abby swore, reaching for forceps and hemostats. Clarke grasped the blood-soaked dressing over the wound, while Jackson stood ready with several pads of sterilized gauze they had scavenged from Mount Weather. Abby turned back around, handing Clarke a set of hemostats; without speaking, Clarke peeled the dressing away, giving a glimpse of rapidly bruising skin around the bloody wound, while Jackson immediately pressed two stacked gauze pads over the wound to staunch new bleeding. Clarke tossed the bloody dressing into the basin to be incinerated later, then returned her attention to the wound in Elsa's chest.

Working with the smoothness that came with years of working together, Jackson removed the gauze he was blotting with to expose the wound opening to Abby, prepared to find and clamp any bleeding vessel. But when he pulled the gauze away, no blood came forth. There was still some pooled blood in the wound, but it was still and darker than expected.

Abby and Jackson looked at each other, both confused at the lack of active bleeding. Wordlessly, Jackson pressed the gauze into the depression, soaking up a significant quantity of the pooled blood. He removed the gauze, with Abby ready again to identify and clamp off any bleeding. But only a tiny layer of blood was visible at the bottom, heavily speckled with what appeared to be dull gray grains of some substance throughout the remaining blood. The wound cavity itself was close to two centimeters deep and about the same across, but there was still no bleeding.

Abby spotted the end of a small superficial blood vessel along the side of the wound, but it wasn't bleeding. She reached in with the hemostat to clamp it, but the tip struck something solid, keeping her from grabbing the exposed end of the vessel. "What the devil is going on here?" she said quietly, removing the hemostat and sticking the tip of her finger into the wound. Sure enough, the side of the wound cavity felt solid and smooth, almost like glass, for a split second before the intense cold nearly burned her fingertip.

Abby jerked her hand away, looking at the thin rime of frost that had formed over the tip of her finger.

"I told you," Clarke said, not bothering to hide her grin. "She's magic. Ice and cold magic, to be precise."

"She's not human?" Abby asked, uncertain whether to trust her senses or not.

"No, she's human," Clarke replied. "Very much so. But she controls cold and ice, and it protects—" Clarke stopped abruptly. "I think I know what happened. Jackson, can you scan those fragments in the blood for metal?" She pointed to the dark specks scattered through the blood that had been soaked up on the gauze pads he was holding. He nodded and quickly moved to placed the gauze on the multiscanner's reading surface.

While he was doing that, Clarke used a small sponge clamp to grasp a folded-up gauze pad and pressed it into the wound on Elsa's chest, soaking up the last of the blood. Sure enough, the base of the wound was hard, and when Clarke removed the pad and looked in, she could see a glassy sheen at the bottom, along with crystallizing fingers of frost.

"The black material in the blood is definitely metal," Jackson said, "but it looks like it's been... powdered, somehow."

"Can the scanner look for microfractures, like if it was frozen to the point where it shattered?"

"It could, but the electron microscope hasn't worked right since the Ark landed."

"Ah." Clarke looked back at her mother, who was alternating between pressing a dry gauze pad into the wound cavity and pulling it out again to look at it, still dry. "It's her magic, Mom. It shattered the bullet after it hit her, before it could go any deeper. That's the only explanation."

Seeing the look of total disbelief on Abby's face, Clarke laughed. "I know, Mom. I know! I was the same way, until she literally _created a rabbit_ , made entirely out of snow, on a table in front of me, and it hopped over to me and sniffed my hand."

A low groan from the table drew everyone's attention back to the patient.

"Elsa?" Clarke said, gently. "Elsa, you're going to be okay. The bleeding's stopped." She looked across the table to Jackson. "Jackson, could you please hand me some alcohol or iodine or whatever you've got for wound cleaning?"

"Sure," he said, nodding. He quickly moved to the nearest wall, retrieving a small tray from a shelf and bringing it back over to the operating table.

As he poured a dark liquid over a sterile pad, handing it Clarke once it was partially saturated, she looked down at the woman lying on the table in front of her. "Hey, Elsa? I'm going to clean out the bullet wound, okay?"

Elsa weakly groaned again; her eyes began to flutter, finally opening but appearing to have momentary difficulty focusing.

"This is going to sting, but we need to clean out the wound so it doesn't get infected. Can you please tell your magic not to freeze my hands if it hurts?"

A weak smile seemed to cross the Arendellan's lips, as she mumbled, "...'Kay. W'll do... my best..."

"Okay, thanks," Clarke said, pressing the iodine-soaked gauze to the wound, smoothly wiping the wound out. Elsa groaned and slid, reflexively trying to pull away, but Clarke held her shoulder with her right hand. "Almost done, Elsa, okay?" she said soothingly. "You're doing great, I promise." She wiped around the wound, grimacing at the purplish discoloration already formed around the wound. Elsa was going to be sore as hell for the next week, at least.

But she was alive.

"...An... na..."

Clarke looked back at Elsa's face. "What?"

Elsa licked her lips. "Anna," she tried again, more coherently this time. Her eyes seemed to focus on Clarke, at least momentarily.

"Hey, you took a hard impact from that bullet, and your magic didn't protect you from all of it. You probably also hit your head when it knocked you down."

Elsa nodded, regretting it when a wave of pain washed over her mind. "Ugh," she moaned, reaching up to her head with her right hand. "Feels... like I've been kicked by a horse."

"Bullets can hit harder than that," Clarke said grimly. "But we don't see any broken bones."

"There was some focal swelling around the clavicle," Abby said, startling Clarke momentarily; she had forgotten anyone else was in the room, so tightly had she been focusing on her friend. "So there could be a hairline fracture in it."

"Okay, so maybe a broken collarbone," Clarke amended, smiling even though she wasn't sure Elsa could register it just yet.

Abby picked up the ultrasound transducer again, moving to the other side of the table; Jackson slid to the side to make room as Abby pressed the transducer against Elsa's skin again. "I'm checking again for any other internal damage," Abby said. "Elsa, my name is Abby. I'm a medical doctor. This device I'm pressing against your chest gives us images of your blood vessels and internal organs. I'm just making sure that there's no damage internal—"

Elsa suddenly tried to sit up, only to be restrained by Clarke's hand. Abby immediately pulled away.

"Hey, Elsa, she's just trying to help!" Clarke said quickly. "it's okay!"

Elsa tried to left her head up, giving up after a throbbing pain pounded through her head. "Is it... safe?" she managed to ask, weakly.

"Safe?" Clarke and Abby both replied, just a moment apart.

Elsa nodded despite the pain. "Safe for... the baby," she finished.

" _Baby?"_ Clarke asked, shocked.

Quickly Abby placed the transducer against Elsa's lower abdomen. "Sound," she said to Jackson, who toggled the audio output. Immediately a swishing sound could be heard throughout the operating room, rapid-fire but regular in rhythm. She looked up to meet Clarke's wide eyes. "Fetal heartbeat," Abby said. Then she smiled. "Sounds strong and healthy."

Elsa's eyes opened, pupils wide as her eyes jerked over to Clarke's face. "Heartbeat?!" she asked. "So that's..."

Clarke shook her head, trying to process what had just happened. "Elsa, you're pregnant?"

"Yes," Elsa said, unable to keep from crying with relief. "The baby is fine?" she asked.

Abby was looking at the screen as she shifted the transducer's position. "Appears to be about fourteen, maybe fifteen weeks," she said calmly. "Yes, the baby looks healthy. Would you like know if it's a boy or a girl?"

Elsa laughed weakly. "It's a girl," she said easily, relief flooding her body. "All our children have been girls, after all."

Abby smiled despite knowing Elsa couldn't see her where she currently was. "It certainly looks like a girl to me." She put the transducer back up after powering it off, then she moved back up to the head of the bed.

"Clarke," Elsa said, looking at Clarke as her eyes finally started to stay focused.

"What is it, Elsa?" Clarke replied, still a bit in shock that Elsa cared enough for her and Lexa to journey to a different world to help them _while she was pregnant._

"Anna," Elsa said. Her eyes were brimming with tears, and her face was tight with concern once more. "Anna's on her way here."

"She's with Lexa, at Coldspire."

Elsa shook her head, flinging a few tears loose, sending them trickling down the sides of her face. "No. She's coming here, now. She knows I'm hurt."

Clarke started to argue, before she remembered Elsa talking about feeling that Anna wasn't in pain two nights ago. "She can feel you, like you can her?" she asked.

"When one of us is hurt, yes," Elsa replied. "And she knows that I was hurt badly." Elsa swallowed, then tried to wipe the tears out of her eyes, with limited success. "Clarke, you have to tell your guards. You have to tell them to _not_ try to stop her."

Clarke nodded. "I'll make sure they don't do anything to hurt her."

"NO!" Elsa said, so sharply that Clarke jumped. Elsa shook her head. "No, Clarke, you don't understand. I'm worried about _her_ hurting _them_."

"But why..." Clarke started, confused.

"Because she knows that I've been hurt," Elsa said calmly. "Because she's upset, and angry... and scared." Elsa looked patiently at Clarke. "If you knew Lexa had been seriously hurt, and someone was trying to keep you from seeing her, what would you be willing to do to get to see her?"

Clarke felt her chest tighten as she considered Elsa's words. "Anything," she breathed out.

Elsa nodded. "Exactly." She smiled again. "Please tell them to not try to stop her or even slow her down. Just have her brought back to me immediately, wherever I am, whatever condition I'm in."

Clarke nodded, now understanding. "Of course," she said. "I'll tell them at shift change in the morning."

"No," Elsa said, trying to sit up again, wincing at the pain in her left shoulder and chest. "No, Clarke, you have to tell them _now."_

"Elsa, they're at Coldspire. That's a three-day ride, two if you really push it."

Elsa smiled, still with that same motherly patience in her blue eyes. "Clarke, Anna knows I've been hurt. She doesn't know any details, and she doesn't know if the baby is healthy or not. She'll be here much, _much_ sooner than that."

—O—

Anna's tears had long since dried into horizontal trails on each side of her face along the temples. Day had given way to dusk, and dusk had yielded to night, but Anna rode on, racing across the sky.

In the blackness of the night, her horse was glowing a soft blue-white, like her sword and shield would, and a fierce tailwind was propelling them even faster as they left a faint trail of light across the sky, borne of sparkling frost that hovered in the air behind them for several seconds, like the trail of a comet.

Anna had lost count of how many times she had sobbed while driving her poor, sweet horse harder and harder. She had tied herself into the saddle with rope from her saddlebag in case she were to fall asleep—or pass out—while riding, but so far her racing thoughts had kept her mind in turmoil.

Elsa was alive. That she knew. That she could feel. And that was all.

So Anna rode, with a storm at her back, the fierce winds pushing her ahead to speed her journey to her partner.

On the ground below, those who saw the blue light streak across the sky that night reacted differently. Some saw it as an omen from their gods, or from the universe itself, portending some imminent disaster. Others saw it as a sign of blessing, a brightness to illuminate the darkness of the night. But all would tell stories of it for years to come.

—O—

The stinging of someone changing the bandage over her left chest woke Elsa from her sleep, a reflexive hissing on her lips.

"Sorry," said a quiet voice beside her.

Elsa opened her eyes to see the brunette woman from before. "My apologies," Elsa said. "For complaining," she added, when she saw the question in the older woman's eyes.

"You were _shot_ earlier today," Abby replied. "I think you're entitled to complain a bit."

Elsa smiled despite the throbbing in her left shoulder. "Thank you," she said, maintaining a calm voice. She started to sit up, but the movement sent a jolt of pain from her left neck all the way down her left arm. She gasped slightly.

"Careful!' Abby said. "You've got a hairline fracture of your left clavicle, the collarbone. Normally we'd put your arm in a sling, but that would interfere with caring for the wound, so you have to try to keep your left arm as still as possible."

Elsa nodded, being very careful not to move her left arm at all with the movement. She gingerly lifted her right hand; finding that it wasn't tied down or restrained in any way, she moved her right hand until it was over her left shoulder. She looked back at the other woman. "Is the bandage in place now?" she asked.

Abby nodded, curious. She had just finished and was taping the bandage down, using more of their recently acquired supplies.

Satisfied with the reply, Elsa concentrated, focusing her magic through her body. It took a little over three seconds before her right hand began to glow, with frost crystallizing and sparkling in the air around her hand and over her right shoulder.

As Abby watched in amazement, the glittering magic spread to cover Elsa's left arm, gently bending her arm at the elbow and rotating it across her chest while forming a solid crystal sheath over Elsa's left shoulder with a frosty sling supporting her right forearm and holding it in place. As the pain eased once her arm settled into position, Elsa felt her body relax slightly now that she wouldn't be accidentally moving that arm.

"I can dissolve this at any time, I assure you," Elsa said. "I just prefer to have some support so I don't accidentally make anything worse. I hurt the same arm not quite a week ago."

Abby swallowed. "That... That was..."

Elsa opened her eyes again, taking in the shocked look on Abby's face. "Yes, Clarke explained that you don't have magic here," she said pleasantly. "It's a bit harder for me to use in this world, or that man wouldn't have been able to shoot me at all." Seeing the trepidation still writ large across Abby's face, Elsa smiled. Or maybe that was from the pain finally starting to ease now that her arm was securely immobilized.

"I'm Elsa," she said, lifting her right hand and offering it to Abby, palm down and fingers kept together, as befit a lady.

"I'm... Abby," the older woman replied, numbly grasping Elsa's fingers and lightly shaking her hand up and down, a gesture so awkward it almost made Elsa laugh.

"So you must be Clarke's mother," Elsa said, remembering some of the discussions she and Clarke had had over the last few days.

"Why?" Abby asked, her voice immediately wary. "What horrible things has she told you about me?"

Despite the ache in her shoulder, Elsa smiled. "What I've been told has been tempered by my own experiences as a mother," she said pleasantly.

Feeling a bit of relief, Abby visibly relaxed. "Congratulations," she said in a friendly manner. "When did you have your baby? Well, _first_ baby, I presume," she added, gesturing to Elsa's abdomen. The blonde girl couldn't be more than a teenager herself, already having a second baby, but that was the way of things for hundreds of years, Abby considered. It wasn't her place to judge.

"Our oldest daughters will turn fourteen in less than two months," Elsa said. "I carried Erin and Anna carried Elin."

Abby stopped and gave Elsa a dubious look. "There's no way you have teenage children. You can't be more than twenty or twenty-one yourself."

"Actually, I'm thirty-five," Elsa replied.

Abby quickly did the math in her head. "How are you closer to my age than to Clarke's?" she asked, amazed.

"Probably the magic," Elsa said. "Anna doesn't seem to be aging either."

"And that's your wife?"

Elsa nodded. "It's a long, winding story, but our True Love for each other wound up saving both our lives. And once we accepted that, we slowly progressed to lovers, then to spouses."

Elsa closed her eyes and thought of her Anna. Instantly she felt a burning sensation deep in her chest. Anna was close, and she was near-frantic.

Elsa opened her eyes again, after trying to send reassurance to Anna that she was fine. However, in the state Anna was no doubt in, Elsa worried that her mate couldn't recognize anything beyond her own fear.

Elsa sighed. She knew all about that.

Trying to take her mind off Anna and knowing that her heart would be here soon, Elsa looked up at Abby again as the woman lingered in the room. "It's hard to let her go, I know," Elsa said softly.

Abby looked down, thoughts interrupted. "What?"

"Clarke. It's hard to let them go."

Abby smiled sadly. "Clarke already took care of that herself."

Elsa reached over and slowly took Abby's hand. The older woman was hesitant at first, worried about her hand possibly freezing, but she was pleasantly surprised at how warm Elsa's hand was. "Clarke is a very good young woman," Elsa said. "She's brave, intelligent and caring. She has a strong sense of loyalty and of justice. You should be proud to have raised such a wonderful daughter."

Abby sighed, but she didn't pull away from Elsa's touch. "Sometimes I am," she admitted. "And sometimes I think she hates me." She looked at Elsa. "The two overlap most of the time."

Elsa nodded. "For what it's worth, I don't think she hates you," she said quietly. "I do think she's uncertain exactly how she feels about you. But you have to remember, she's also having to find herself as well, in a very harsh, unforgiving world. Compound that by placing the responsibility for so many others on her shoulders, and it's easy to see why she feels frustrated and overwhelmed."

Now Abby smiled, for the first time since Elsa had met her. "It sounds like you have some experience with that," she said. "Clarke mentioned that you were a queen, but that your kingdom was very far away."

"A world away, in fact," Elsa replied, nodding. "How much has Clarke explained?"

"Enough that I find it incredibly hard to believe."

Elsa laughed, and the sound of it was so foreign, so _human_ that it nearly made Abby tear up in response. "Oh, you still have _much_ to learn, then," Elsa said gleefully. "If that's the extent of your disbelief!"

—O—

" _Clarke, please come to the front gate."_

The sound of her name over the radio woke Clarke from her sleep immediately. She jumped up, seeing Octavia and Lincoln—who had refused to leave her side after the Trikru prisoners had been freed—sitting across the room from her, guarding her. The two of them rose to their feet as well, grabbing swords as Clarke buckled her pistol belt around her waist.

"Thanks for watching over me," Clarke said to Octavia, then looking up to Lincoln. "And it's good to see you without bars in the way."

"Mochof, Wanheda," Lincoln said, thanking her in Trikru.

"Of course," Clarke replied in English. "I'm just glad Pike hadn't killed you yet." She turned and hurried out of the stateroom, walking quickly down the hallway.

It was still night when they came outside, lit only by the moon above and the lights mounted on the guard posts. Clarke looked around, only to find a woman a few years older than her running toward her. The woman was wearing a guard uniform, but Clarke didn't recall her name, if she had ever met her at all. Her gun wasn't raised, but Clarke expected Octavia's sword behind her was. "What's going on?" Clarke asked, still a bit uneasy at how readily everyone had accepted her leadership after the showdown between her and Pike during the day. Only Hannah Green, Monty's mom, had caused a stir, resulting in her being locked up in the brig as well.

"We were told to notify you if we noticed anything unusual," the woman replied.

Clarke waited a moment, stifling a yawn. "Okay?" she finally asked.

The woman pointed over Clarke's shoulder, toward the sky. "That's unusual."

Clarke turned to see what appeared to be a pale blue streak in the sky, curving slowly as it appeared to be losing altitude. It bore more than a passing resemblance to the comets she had rarely seen growing up on the Ark, but the specific shade of blue-white was already familiar to Clarke.

"That's Anna, Elsa's wife," she said calmly. "Making one hell of an entrance."

The four of them watched the blue streak gently arc toward them, and over the next few minutes more and more people had gathered in the courtyard to watch the unique sight as the glowing object grew steadily larger.

"Clarke, where the fuck did you meet these people?" Octavia whispered slowly.

"O, I'm not sure you'd believe me if I told you," Clarke said, unable to tear her eyes away from the gleaming light that was quickly approaching them. She raised her voice, making sure it carried across the open area. "Everybody, this is a friend coming in! DO NOT attack and DO NOT try to stop her! She's tired, she's pissed off and she's worried about her wife! Just stay out of her way!" She then retrieved her radio, thumbing the microphone button. "Guard posts, did you get that?"

" _Affirmative, Clarke."_

" _Copy, Clarke."_

Several more crackling replies came through, but Clarke had already put her radio back on her belt.

The blue glow began to fade as a strong gust of wind blew across the open grounds. Now Anna and her horse could be clearly seen, as the horse's blue shine had nearly faded; it was mere meters from the ground, its gallop slowing as Anna wearily held the reins.

In the admittedly short time Clarke had known her and Elsa, she had never seen Anna look so haggard and weary. Her posture was that of someone exhausted, her lips set in a grim line. Her face was a bright red, looking like it had been burned, and her bare hands appeared much the same.

"God, she's just a kid too," Octavia whispered, just barely audible to Clarke, as the ice horse's hooves lightly touched the ground with soft clomps. The beast came to stop after a few more steps, and it too looked exhausted, with frozen beads of perspiration heavily dotted across its neck and flanks. (Which struck Clarke as odd as well, but then this was _magic_ she was talking about. Who knew exactly how it worked?)

"She's older than we are," Clarke said quietly, patting Octavia on the shoulder. "And has two daughters who are almost as old as you."

Clarke turned and walked over to Anna, who slowly dismounted from the saddle. As soon as Anna's feet touched the ground, her legs buckled, sending her briefly onto her knees, but she pushed her way back up off the ground before Clarke could reach her.

"Elsa's inside," Clarke said, although Anna wasn't looking at her; rather, the redhead's gaze was intensely focused somewhere behind Clarke, in the direction of the Ark itself, although she stood swaying slightly, like she was in a daze. "Anna!" Clarke said, trying to get her friend's attention.

The Arendellan's head turned slightly, her bleary eyes barely registering Clarke's face. Her face was clearly burned, her lips cracked and peeling; she looked miserable, but there was a burning drive that was still visible in her eyes beneath the redness.

"I'll take you to Elsa," Clarke said. "Come on."

Anna nodded, prompting Clarke to immediately turn and hurry toward the metal structure of the Ark. Anna trailed behind her, eyes not straying to take in the unusual structure nor the people who had lined up to watch. Silently Clarke led her deeper into the metal corridors, finally down a long hallway and into a double door that slid open as they approached.

"Clarke?" asked Abby, who had just come to Medical to check on Elsa.

Clarke lifted her left index finger to her lips, then stepped aside so that Anna could see Elsa, lying in a bed across the large open space; hers was the only bed that had been set up and occupied in the small patient ward, making the space look nearly empty, but all Anna's eyes could focus on anyway was the blonde woman lying just meters away from her.

Tears began to pour down Anna's cheeks as she numbly unbuckled her belt, letting her sword, shield and dagger drop to the floor as she quickly walked across the empty space of the ward. Seeing her mate here at last, Elsa began crying herself as a huge smile spread across her face. Abby noted Elsa's blood pressure and heart rate spike on the monitor; with a swift tap from her finger, she silenced the alarms before they could interrupt the reunion between partners.

"I'm okay, Anna," Elsa said, using her right hand to wipe tears away. "My arm got hurt, but it'll be fine." Anna stopped to pull off her boots; her chin trembled as she registered Elsa's left arm in a sling and her wife's shoulder encased in an icy cast. "I'm alive," Elsa said softly, "and you're here, and our baby is fine, and that's all that matters."

Without another word, still wearing the rest of her clothes, Anna climbed up onto the small bed, taking care to not bump Elsa as she went over her, settling against the right side of Elsa's body in the small space between Elsa and the bed railing as she wrapped her arms and legs around Elsa.

"What happened to your face?" Elsa asked gently as she took in the stinging redness over Anna's face and ears.

"Don't know," Anna mumbled, closing her eyes and snuggling against Elsa. "Don't care. Here w' you. Tha's all that matters..." Her voice trailed off tiredly at the end.

"You stink," Elsa said, the words softened with love and adoration.

"Hadn't stopped riding," Anna replied, her voice muffled against Elsa's skin, a sensation which elated Elsa's spirit in a way she had been craving for days. "Had to get to you."

"And you succeeded, my heart," Elsa said proudly, hugging Anna closer, an action which elicited a happy (if weary) squeak of delight from the redhead. "I knew you'd be here soon. I told them to be looking out for you."

Somehow, despite the bone-deep exhaustion throughout her frame, Anna lifted her head enough to look into Elsa's eyes. Despite the burns on her face, on her nose, on her ears, Anna's eyes were luminous in their blue-green color at that moment. "Nothing could have stopped me from getting to you," she said, deadly serious.

Elsa blinked tears away before leaning forward and kissing Anna first on the forehead, then on her little nose, then on her lips, holding that last kiss significantly longer than the others. "I know," Elsa whispered against Anna's lips, feeling a tingle between them where their skin touched.

"Before you fall asleep on me, which is exactly what I'm wanting you to do, by the way, you need to take a quick bath," Elsa said, already bracing herself for Anna to protest. "You've ridden all day and much of the night, and you smell like it."

"But—"

"I'm not going anywhere, Anna, and neither are you. But I know you're itching and uncomfortable, and a nice bath would help keep your muscles from being in knots tomorrow."

Anna smiled despite the motion making her lips crack painfully. "Plus I stink."

Elsa smiled back. "Plus you stink."

The love in Anna's eyes made Elsa's heart ache with happiness. "They have a very nice shower setup. Clarke can show you where it is."

"Okay," Anna said, leaning her head forward to touch it against Elsa's.

"How did you get burned?" Elsa asked softly.

"No idea," Anna said. "It was starting to tingle last night, but I... really wasn't paying attention to much of anything today. Except getting here to you."

Elsa smiled; she could feel the heat of Anna's skin where their foreheads touched. Her poor Anna. Her sweet, stubborn, unstoppable Anna. "Go wash up," Elsa said, cupping Anna's left cheek with her right hand. "I'll be here waiting on you, and we can sleep right here all night."

"Okay," Anna said. "Does this bed lay flat, at least?"

Elsa smiled. "It does."

"Good thing."

Elsa patted Anna's cheek lightly. "You're sleeping tonight," she said. "Plenty of time for other activities once you're rested again." With a playful smile, Elsa added, "Plus you've already gotten me pregnant anyway."

With a light-hearted groan, Anna carefully straddled Elsa, then turned to step out of the bed. "I'll be back as soon as I'm clean," she said.

"I'll be right here," Elsa replied, the smile permanently fixed on her face now that Anna was back with her.

"I'll show you to the showers and find some clothes for you," Clarke said, starting to turn but holding her position as she saw Anna stop to pick up her swordbelt.

Anna quickly positioned the belt across her waist, buckling it into place before she looked back up at Clarke. "There's one stop I want to make first," she said as the two of them walked out of the medical bay.

—O—

"So that's Anna," Abby said as the doors whished closed behind Clarke and Anna exiting. "She's lovely."

"She's the most beautiful thing in existence," Elsa said seriously. "With our children very close seconds."

"How old is she?"

"Thirty-three."

Abby turned to look at Elsa again; it was obvious the woman wasn't going back to sleep until her wife had returned, so they might as well chat a bit. "You don't have any of that magic to share with some of us, do you?' she asked, jokingly. "I'd like to look as young as the two of you."

Elsa smiled, a bit self-consciously. "Our twins share the same magic, but Kari doesn't appear to."

"So you passed it on? Your magic?" Abby considered. How _would_ the genetics for magic work? It was an intriguing question, though likely one that would never be answerable.

"It appears so. We have no idea if this little girl will have it or not," Elsa said, gently rubbing her belly with her left hand, which did happen to be positioned right there. "But we'll love her either way."

Abby paused, wondering if she should mention what she was thinking. Finally she made up her mind. Elsa was her patient, so Abby was her physician. "Elsa, I do have some concerns about the high radiation level here. I'm not sure if medical science where you're from is aware of the damaging effects radiation can have on fetuses, but the damage can be devastating. Even lethal."

Elsa nodded. "Clarke and I have already talked about that," she said calmly. "I can tell that my magic is protecting both Lise and me from the 'radiation.' After she discussed her theory about it, I was able to feel that the cold is definitely shielding my whole body, and thus little Lise, from something constantly. You telling me about your 'scanner' that uses a different type of radiation being blocked helped confirm it."

Elsa smiled at Abby. "Abby, thank you for your concern about Lise. If I thought that she was being harmed by being here, I would absolutely return to Arendelle, and I know Clarke would understand. But this baby growing inside me and her connection to my magic both feel perfectly fine."

Abby nodded. "I understand." She took a deep breath, then slowly blew it out. "Clarke... hasn't told me too much about what happened when she met you and your family, but she said that you and your daughters saved her life." She carefully laid her left hand across Elsa's, taking care to only touch Elsa's hand and not her abdomen. "From one mother to another, _thank you_ for looking out for my child, even if she's a grown woman now."

Elsa smiled back. "It was our pleasure to do so, Abby. And thank you for working to save my life and the life of _my_ child."

Anna's breathed in raggedly. "Maybe once you and Anna have rested up, we can talk some more?" she asked, oddly hopefully for another opportunity to gain more insight into the enigma that her daughter's life had become.

"I'd like that as well," replied Elsa, quite seriously.

—O—

Harper and Nathan Miller both looked up when the doors to the brig opened to reveal Clarke and a strange redhead who was wearing... armor. Chain mail, beneath her green shirt and pants, a white mail that nearly glowed in the dim lighting of the prison ward. Her face was freckled but looked heavily sunburned, and the look on her face as she cast her gaze around the prison block was nothing short of furious.

"That's Pike," Clarke said, pointing to the cell holding the former Chancellor.

Immediately the redhead was striding forward, stopping just short of the barred door. "Open this door," she called out over her shoulder.

Clarke met Harper's and Miller's concerned gaze. Anna had already acknowledged that she wasn't going to kill Pike on the way to this section of the Ark. She had promised Clarke that she understood that Pike had to return to Polis and face his fate there, in front of the people whom he had wronged the most. Clarke looked at Anna again, her furious eyes glaring holes in Pike through the bars of his cell before the Arendellan looked back at Harper and Nathan.

"If you don't open this door right now, I'll carve each of these bars out _myself_ to get to him!" Anna cried out, her voice breaking with emotion.

Clarke nodded to her friends. She had little doubt Anna could make good on her statement, after what she had seen over the last three weeks.

Nathan pressed the button that turned off the maglock holding the cell door closed. Taking a deep breath and holding her tongue, Harper slid the barred door back quickly.

Pike immediately lunged forward toward the opening, only to be met by a cinnamon-haired ball of fury who was running on adrenaline and rage. Pike, who outmassed Anna by over thirty kilograms, never stood a chance.

As Pike stretched his arms out to grab for Anna, the woman dropped nearly to the ground while still charging forward, driving her left shoulder into Pike's gut and using her arms to grab his legs; she used her strong legs to keep charging forward until she slammed him into the rear wall of the cell, using his body to cushion her impact and keep from slamming her head into the wall. She then grabbed him by the shirt and jerked him toward her and to the side, tripping him with her left leg to send him sprawling onto the floor.

Rather than try to regain his footing, Pike stayed on the ground and swept his right leg backward, trying to catch Anna's legs and knock her down as well, but she had stayed out of range, waiting for him to get back up, eyes still burning with anger.

The temperature began to drop into the prison, but Clarke didn't notice it until she saw frost begin to rime on the bars of Pike's cell. When Nathan started to go into the cell, Clarke held her arm out to stop him.

"Elsa, the blonde that Pike shot earlier today, is Anna's wife," Clarke said simply. "She's not going to kill him. And he _did_ charge her first, trying to escape."

Watching Anna meet Pike's growling charge with a fist to his temple, sending the larger man back down onto a knee, Harper said, "It's not a very fair fight."

Before Pike could stand, Anna kicked him under his chin, clacking his teeth together hard enough for her to hear it; only luck had Pike's tongue in a position where he didn't bite through it.

"You almost killed my _wife!"_ Anna screamed, shoving Pike backwards, sending him slamming onto his back. She fell on top of him, straddling his chest. "You almost killed our _BABY!"_

Harper's head whirled to look at Clarke.

Clarke nodded. "Elsa's pregnant. About fifteen weeks, give or take."

Harper's head whirled back around to the fight, now silently cheering for Anna to hit Pike harder.

Seeing icicles beginning to form from the ceiling, Clarke decided that things probably needed to stop soon, before the man froze to death. "Anna!" she called out.

Pike finally landed a blow, a left-handed strike to Anna's jaw that seemed to have no effect on the redhead's fury. She responded with a left-handed punch of her own to Pike's jaw that drove his head into the metal floor of the cell with a ringing sound.

"ANNA!" Clarke shouted, trying to get the Arendellan's attention. She _really_ didn't want to have to go in there with them.

But it was Pike fumbling for a weapon and awkwardly wrapping his right hand around the handle of Anna's sword that ended the fight.

The man's agonized scream rang out, reflecting off the metal walls of his cell, as he felt the intense cold bite deeply and painfully into his fingers and hand, freezing flesh, muscle and blood all at once into a rigid, twisted shape.

Anna stopped what she was doing and looked down. Seeing the tendrils of frost trailing upward from his frozen right hand, its digits excruciatingly locked into place, Anna mumbled, "Idiot." She leaned forward; Pike's eyes were clenched tightly shut, mouth open in an ongoing silent scream. "No one can wield my sword except Elsa or me, or one of our daughters!"

She stood up, letting Pike roll onto his left side, clutching at his right wrist. "I was trying to fight you fairly!" she said hotly, leaning over him. " _You_ were the one who tried to take my sword!"

"ANNA!" Clarke yelled again, finally getting the queen to look at her.

"What?!" Anna said, loudly.

"I think you've made your point," Clarke said firmly.

Anna glared at her friend for a few seconds before she turned her attention back to Charles Pike. The man was tossing and turning on the floor, left hand clenched around his right forearm, stopping short of touching his ruined right hand.

Suddenly Anna felt impossibly tired. She was dirty, bedraggled and exhausted. She felt the anger seep out of her, immediately replaced by a fatigue that seemed to saturate her flesh and bones in the span of seconds. It was all she could do to turn and walk to the door of the cell, which was slid open by the blonde girl standing guard.

Anna walked out; it took supreme effort for her to lift her head enough to look at Clarke. "I need to take a shower, then I think I'll probably sleep for a day or two," she said slowly. It had become an effort to stay upright at this point now that the adrenaline was fading and she was crashing.

"Come on," Clarke said, gently tugging on Anna's hand to start her moving forward. "I'll take you to the showers, then get you back to your woman."

Anna smiled, despite the stinging pain on her face and in her lips.

—O—

"Okay, here's the shower section," Clarke said, stepping into the anteroom where towels were kept and clothes could be placed in hampers, to be washed later. She waved her arm forward at the shower panels coming out of the wall. "We've got enough room for four showers to be going at once, although the hot water is solar-powered and tends to run out late at night or if more than two people are showering. Raven's rigged up a water capture system that..."

She trailed off, realizing that she hadn't seen her friend Raven all day. Pike was dealt with, so now she had to deal with whatever shit Jaha was trying to stir up, and from what Murphy had said, Raven was already mixed up in it. Maybe she needed to talk to her mom after all, as much as Clarke _really_ didn't want to.

The sound of clothing hitting the floor vaguely registered in the back of Clarke's mind, but the sight of a very nude Anna numbly walking past her registered much more strongly.

"Uhm, Anna..." Clarke said, trying to not swallow her tongue. "Just... turn the dials, left is hot and— Oh, you've got it. Never mind, you had showers and baths at Arendelle, too."

Anna mutely nodded, retrieving a cake of soap from a shelf built into the wall of the shower, staring straight ahead.

"Okay, I'll just, uh, be right outside if you need anything," Clarke managed to gulp out as she politely turned around. _Jesus, those freckles do go all the way down._ "Shampoo is in the bottles up there. Between the Grounders and some of our chemistry people, we've got some really good stuff."

"Okay," Anna said weakly, her voice barely audible over the hissing of the water.

Clarke resolutely stepped outside, pulling the door closed as she slid down the wall until she was sitting on the floor. As tired as Anna was, it wouldn't surprise her for the redhead to pass out, and she wanted to be able to help her if she did.

Several minutes later, Clarke heard the water turn off. "Everything okay?" she called out, opening the door slightly but not looking inside.

"Yeah," she heard Anna croak. "Just getting a towel and drying off."

A few minutes later, the door opened, revealing Anna standing there with just a long towel wrapped around her, covering her from most of her breasts to the tops of her thighs. She had her chain mail and her clothes wadded up into a pile, which she was carrying, and she had slung her sword belt across her right shoulder. "I figure you can protect me from here to Elsa," Anna said, mustering up a grin for Clarke despite her weariness.

Clarke nodded. "Absolutely," she said.

However, that promise turned out to be unnecessary, as only shadows and empty corridors greeted them on the way back to the Medical section. As they re-entered, Abby turned around from where she had been sitting on a stool next to Elsa's bed.

"I can take your clothes and have them washed," Clarke said. "I have no idea how you clean chain mail, though."

Anna smiled. "Thank you, but I can just wash them tomorrow. Or Elsa can blast the sweat, blood and grime out of them, once she rests up."

Abby stood as Anna and Clarke crossed the mostly empty space of the medical bay. "Anna, I'd like to take a look at those burns later, if you don't mind. I think we can make something to help with them, but if they're radiation burns, then you might need—"

Through an impressive yawn, Anna managed to say, "Are they going to kill me tonight?"

"It certainly doesn't appear so, but—"

"Oh good." Anna gave Elsa a sly wink; with her back turned to Clarke and Abby, neither of them could see the gesture. Before Elsa could say anything, Anna had dropped her towel and was climbing into bed with Elsa.

"O-kay!" Clarke said, quickly turning around as Abby did the same. "Did _not_ need to see that again! Night you two!"

Abby started to say something, but as Clarke grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled her mother forward, Abby settled for calling out, "No fooling around! You both need to rest!" as Clarke ushered her out the double doors, closing the doors to Medical behind them.

"Again?" Elsa sighed quietly as Anna slid her now-clean body against her wife, with Elsa quickly covering them with the light sheet she had been using as a cover.

"Yeah, that first one wasn't deliberate. I was asleep on my feet getting into that shower and kind of forgot Clarke was still talking to me."

"I think it's time for you to get some rest, my sweet Anna," Elsa said, kissing Anna on the forehead as the redhead rested her head on Elsa's right shoulder before leaning in and placing a warm kiss on the side of Elsa's fair neck.

"No argument from me, Els..." Anna said, her voice fading as she finally succumbed to the siren song of sleep.

Elsa gently ran her right hand over Anna's hair, straight and loose, as she felt Anna's soft breaths brush against her neck, each one a warm, soothing reassurance that Anna was still there, was still breathing. "Njord's waves, your hair is going to be the biggest mess _ever_ tomorrow," she said, with perfect big sister intonation. "But I'll love brushing and untangling every single wild, fiery lock of it." She rested her right hand against the bare skin of Anna's side as she dissolved her own gown, leaving nothing between the two of them as Elsa let herself drift off to sleep as well, a smile matching that of Anna's on her lips..

—O—

 **Author's Afterword:** Hope that chapter can tide you over for a few more weeks! Stuff's finally starting to happen here, and there's still plenty more to come before it's all over. I realize this chapter was a bit longer than I had planned, but I just couldn't leave the chapter without Elsa and Anna back in each other's arms again. They've had a rough day here, and they deserve a peaceful night's sleep together.

See you soon!


	12. Chapter 12: Version 30

**Author's Note:** Yay, a new chapter! Generally speaking, I tend to like all the music I use in my stories, but I'm practically giddy with this chapter's. It fits SO WELL with the end of this chapter. You'll see.

Cover Art for the story is from the LexaRecovery tumblr. Stay strong together.

 _I do not own the television show "The 100" or make any claims upon it or its characters. Similarly, I do not own Frozen, its characters or any Disney characters or property. All these characters are used under the concept of Fair Use, and I make no profit or income from using any of them._

 **Our Fight Is Not Over**

by Jo K.

Chapter 12: Version 3.0

 _Always in focus_

 _You can't feel my stare_

 _I zoom into you_

 _You don't know I'm there_

 _I take pride in probing all your secret moves_

 _My tearless retina takes pictures that can prove_

 _I'm made of metal_

 _My circuits gleam_

 _I am perpetual_

 _I keep the country clean_

 _I'm elected electric spy_

 _I'm protected electric eye_

-Judas Priest, "Electric Eye"

—O—

—O—

Clarke jerked upward, into a sitting position, heart pounding. Her upper body was soaked in a cold sweat, and her left hand was shaking so badly that she had trouble hitting the panel to turn on the light.

"Clarke?" Octavia whispered from somewhere beside her. Though she couldn't hear him, Clarke knew that if Octavia was there, then Lincoln would be there too. They'd been inseparable since he and the other Trikru had been released from the brig.

"I'm... I'm okay, O," Clarke said, her voice shaky and unconvincing even to herself. "Nightmare," she added.

When Clarke closed her eyes, she was once again confronted with the eerily calm face of the pale brunette wearing an elegant red dress. The woman in her dream had seemed to be talking around Clarke, not _to_ her, but something about the calm, confident tones of the mystery woman gave Clarke the creeps.

Why was she dreaming about her? Clarke had never seen the woman before, she was sure of it. The dress she was wearing looked pristine, so she obviously wasn't a Grounder. Had she been in a teaching program Clarke had seen as a child on the Ark? Or was she entirely a creation of Clarke's subconscious mind?

Clarke took in a deep breath and sighed. "Is everything okay out there?" she asked quietly. "Nothing weird going on?"

There was a soft laugh from Octavia. "Last time I checked, there was a magical horse made of snow and ice outside. That can _fly_. Does that count as weird, or are we past that now?"

Clarke grinned in the dark. "Nobody likes a smart-ass, O."

"Lexa likes _you_ , so I know that's not true."

—O—

Clarke allowed herself to indulge in a shower after she finally woke again a few hours later. No further nightmares had plagued her after she went back to sleep, thankfully. The hot water had helped ease the soreness in her neck and the tightness in her lower back, and she allowed herself to half-heartedly hope for a good day today.

Her first stop after getting dressed was Medical. She entered the room to find both her mother and Jackson examining Anna and Elsa, respectively.

"Hi, Clarke!" Anna said cheerfully. Elsa smiled and waved lightly, but she refrained from speaking while Jackson finished listening to her lungs and heart.

"Good morning," Clarke replied, unable to keep from smiling. Anna's smile was as infectious as any disease Clarke had ever read about, and it was as virulent as ever this morning, particularly since... "Your face looks better!" Clarke said, surprised at the rapid turnaround.

Anna nodded. "Feels a lot better, too," she said happily. "Amazing what a good night's rest with the woman you love can do."

"I'm not convinced that's all it is," Abby said, holding a portable scanner in front of Anna's face while she watched the readout on the tablet in her other hand. "The brief scan I did on you last night showed clear signs of radiation damage on the epithelial cells of your face and ears. I didn't have time to do a full DNA scan at the time, but..."

A monitor flickered to life on the nearby wall, showing a highly magnified image of Anna's burned face from the night before.

"This was last night," Abby said, gesturing toward the screen. She didn't see the excitement on the face of Elsa and Anna, but Clarke made a point to gauge their reaction to the image on the display, and she wasn't disappointed at the way both faces lit up with eagerness at the appearance of the photographic image.

"And here's the image from just now," Abby said, switching to a different image. Now the skin looked almost normal, other than some mild peeling; the blotchy redness was gone, and Anna's freckles were once more the most prominent feature of her face. "Even the lips—" Abby said, with a third image appearing on the screen, "—look almost entirely healed."

Abby turned to look back at Anna and Elsa. "DNA scans from this morning show no signs of DNA intercalation or damage from radiation, despite the visible damage that was present less than a day ago." She placed the tablet on the counter beside her. "How the hell is that possible?" she asked, frustration evident in her voice. "I saw your face last night. You had severe first-degree, borderline second-degree burns on your face, nose, ears and lips. Those do _not_ heal overnight!"

"Well, apparently they do," Anna said, settling back down against Elsa's side.

Clarke managed to get out, "Ma—" before Abby's hand shot up and cut her off.

"And do _not_ say 'magic,' Clarke, because I'm getting tired of that as the explanation for everything strange that happens around here!"

"Uh, Abby?"

Everyone turned to look at Jackson, who was standing there with Elsa's newly-removed bandage in his hand. "Take a look at Elsa's wound, please," he said calmly.

Abby moved to where she could see the exposed wound. Intense mottling and discoloration were still clearly visible around the entry wound, but...

Abby looked up at Jackson. "Where's the entry wound?"

"Well, I'm guessing that's it," Jackson said, pointing to a flat red circle near the center of the ecchymosis on Elsa's left shoulder and upper chest. "Because that's where it was."

Abby reached forward and gently pressed her finger to the spot of redness. "It's filled in," she said, carefully palpating deeper. "Overnight."

"Sure looks that way," Jackson agreed. "Elsa, can you try to move your left arm? Does it still hurt?"

Elsa lifted her left arm, wincing slightly at the sharp pain she still felt around her collarbone. "It still hurts to move it," she said, "but it doesn't seem to be as severe as it was before."

Looking down at the redhead tucked against her right side—who had taken quite a bit of fussing earlier in the morning before she had agreed to let Elsa create a small shirt for her, so that she wouldn't be completely nude when the doctors came to examine them—Elsa smiled and placed a kiss on Anna's tousled fiery hair. "It's us being together," Elsa finally said. "My magic tends to be amplified when Anna and I are in physical contact with each other, and it's shown an ability to heal us in the past. I'm certain that's why we've both improved so much overnight."

Abby turned to look at Clarke, seeing a smug expression on her daughter's face. "Alright, it's magic," Abby said with a sigh. "I admit it."

Clarke looked over her mother's shoulder, meeting Elsa's amused expression. Clarke gave her a quick wink, receiving a subtle dip of Elsa's chin in silent reply.

"In fairness, though," Elsa said, "Abby and Dr. Jackson have both been very attentive and excellent with caring for me, so I'm certain they had quite a bit to do with my improving as well."

"Spoken like a queen with years of experience in diplomacy," Clarke said, somewhat teasingly.

"Yes, well," Elsa replied, "I won't deny it. Our years of experience were rather hard-earned."

"Got that right," came a sleepy mumble from Elsa's right side. "Kids make the ambassadors and diplomats look easy."

Elsa smiled before she looked up at Abby again. "Since Anna and I are both healing quickly, would it be possible for us to leave here and look around?" she asked politely. "Your care has been wonderful, but these walls are growing a bit..."

"Boring," Anna added, voice still slightly muffled against Elsa's skin.

Elsa smiled. "Yes," she said. "Boring."

Abby smiled back at the two of them in the bed. "I think that should be fine, judging from how quickly you've recovered."

Clarke was still looking at Elsa when a flash of color drew her attention. She nearly gasped when she caught a glimpse of a woman in red—THE woman in red—standing beside Jackson, next to Elsa's bed. Her mouth was moving, like she was talking to Jackson, but no words were audible.

Immediately Clarke moved to the room's main control panel, forcing her steps to be patient and her movements to not appear hurried or anxious. She quickly pressed the button to begin recording video and audio in the room before calling up stored data on Elsa's vital signs that had been recorded through the night. Swallowing to make sure her voice would be calm, Clarke said, "Your vitals looked fine overnight, Elsa. I sure don't see any reason why you'd need to stay in Medical another day, although you'll want to come back and let us take another look at your wound tonight, if that's okay."

Clarke turned back around, nearly jumping again when the dark-haired woman in the red dress was gone. No one was looking in the direction of where she had been standing, leading Clarke to wonder if she was truly there at all.

Had she hallucinated her? After all, considering what Lexa had done—

 _No,_ Clarke silently told herself. The woman had been there. One minute she wasn't there, the next she was. And then she was gone again.

 _Could_ it have been a hallucination? Clarke sighed, this time barely audible. She _really_ needed to talk to Lexa. She missed Lexa. She missed Lexa's arms around her.

"Clarke?"

The touch of her mother's fingers against her arm made Clarke jump visibly, which surprised her mother nearly as much as it did her.

"Are you okay?" Abby asked, concern evident on her face.

Clarke nodded. "Yeah, I'm..." _SHIT_. She had to tell her mom that she was married. To _LEXA_. "I'm... just processing a lot of things. Been a busy last couple of days."

"I know," Abby said, her voice surprisingly patient and compassionate. "Maybe we can take a minute to catch up later today?"

The hopeful tone in her mother's voice was new, and it surprised Clarke. She took a moment to look at her mother, really _look_ at her, and she saw no sign of ulterior motive or deception in that face, both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time.

Much like how her mom saw her now, she expected.

Clarke smiled, only partially feeling it but wanting to try. "I'd like that," she said, a bit shocked to realize that part of her actually meant it.

—O—

"My God! It's Clarke Griffin!"

Clarke grinned at the obvious sarcasm in Kyle Wick's words as she stepped deeper into the large room Wick had claimed as his personal workshop and laboratory. "How have you been, Wick?" she asked.

"Eh, been better, been worse," Wick replied, setting what appeared to be a small engine of some sort down on the cluttered worktable in front of him. "What brings you back to this corner of hell?"

"Pike, for one," Clarke said, getting a nod and a smile from the engineer.

"I think you successfully crossed that one off your to-do list."

"Looks that way," Clarke agreed. "But that's not the only reason I'm here." Her mother had told her that Kyle had remained steadfastly opposed to and outspokenly critical of Thelonious Jaha and his growing group of followers, which is why Clarke was here in his workshop. "How much have you been able to learn about what Jaha is up to?"

"Ah!" Wick said, raising his right index finger in a gesture of intrigue as he smiled broadly. "One of my favorite subjects recently."

"Do you really mean that?"

"Not at all. But it _has_ been quite interesting to try and figure out what exactly the prick's been up to." He walked over to a bank of flatscreens, perched over a tangled mess of cables. "He's definitely up to something more than just 'relieving the pain of others', that's for sure, and he's been _very_ good at hiding it."

Clarke nodded, despite Wick's attention being focused on the keyboard he was typing on currently. "Yeah, that's what I'm afraid of."

"So here's a list of people that we know have joined Jaha's little 'City of Light.' So far." A list of names appeared on the monitor, over thirty people. "Your mom and I have been working on this the last week or so. A little project of ours, trying to determine what these people have in common."

"Any luck?" Clarke asked.

Wick shook his head. "Nada. No common factor between them that we can find, other than they're all here and still above ground. It doesn't look like he's targeting women, men or any particular skillset."

"So there's no connection between them," Clarke said with a sigh. "So—"

Wick raised his left hand, making Clarke stop talking. "Whoa there, Clarke. You're not a bunny and I'm not a toad, so let's not jump ahead," he said. He typed a few commands, then clicked on a button to bring up a display that Clarke fairly quickly recognized as a rough outline of Arkadia. Several dozen pinpoints of red were displayed on the screen, along with one red circle much larger than all the others. Some of the dots were apart from the others, but several were in close proximity.

Clarke leaned forward, staring at the screen. "Is that them?" she asked, breathlessly.

Wick nodded.

"You put trackers on them?!" Clarke asked, getting more excited.

"Nope," Wick replied, grinning like the cat who ate the canary. "We didn't _need_ to."

"But—" Clarke looked back at the screen. "How are you tracking them?"

"Wireless signals," Wick said, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Whatever it is Jaha is doing to his little converts, each of them starts to transmit and receive wireless communications."

"What's the big dot?" Clarke said, pointing to the larger disc of red, which appeared to be inside the community living quarters. "Jaha?"

"Close. It's his backpack."

"His backpack?"

Wick nodded. "Yeah, it's a local hot spot for the wireless, a signal booster _and_ a satellite uplink."

"Have you been able to trace where it's transmitting?"

"Nope," he replied. "It's definitely bouncing off a satellite, but the encryption's so thick that Monty hasn't been able to break it, so we don't know what exactly it's beaming up or where the satellite is sending that data."

"Great," Clarke muttered.

"Oh, it gets better. Or worse, depending on your point of view." Wick grabbed the keyboard and clacked a few more keys. The red dots disappeared, with the tactical view of Arkadia now black except for a yellow-white blob where the large red dot had been.

"Okay, what's that?" Clarke finally asked after several seconds of silence.

"Radiation levels," Wick said. "Whatever that thing is, it's being powered by a miniature nuclear reactor."

—O—

The air that Elsa breathed in as she stepped out of the metal confines of the Ark, though different from her Arendelle home, was fresh and invigorating after being cooped up inside for the last day. Having Anna at her side, holding her hand, only made the moment sweeter.

Together they looked around at the strange land, the makeshift walls that had been set up, the people going back and forth inside the safety those walls represented. For the next few hours, they took their time walking around the settlement, looking at the walls, taking in the view, watching demonstrations of some of the technology and equipment being used and getting to know the people of this world. They tasted some of the smoked meat and fish being prepared in a small building away from the Ark itself, they examined some of the fishing nets that were used in the nearby rivers. They went up to the top of the Ark and slowly turned all around, taking in the size and beauty of the wild land around them, different than Arendelle but similar in many ways.

"It's not that different that most little villages," Anna finally said as they sat down, back on the ground in the middle of Arkadia. The skin was peeling and flaking off her face and lips, and she reflexively reached up and scratched lightly at one patch on her cheek.

"It's not," Elsa agreed, smiling at how utterly adorable Anna was with even the simplest of actions. "Other than some of the weapons looking different."

Anna nodded. "Did you get a chance to look around any yesterday?"

Elsa shook her head in the negative. "Unfortunately, no. Just the brief time the confrontation between Clarke and that Pike fellow lasted."

There was a pause for a few uncomfortable moments before Anna spoke. "I, uh, didn't kill him," Anna finally said, a bit embarrassed. "I wanted to. I still want to."

Elsa smiled and placed a kiss on Anna's cheek. "You did the right thing, my heart. Clarke needs to return with him alive, so the families of those he ordered killed can know peace."

"He's not going to be using his right hand, again, though."

Elsa looked back at her wife again. "Did you cut it off?" she asked curiously.

"Nah," Anna replied. "He tried to grab my sword."

"Hmm," Elsa replied, thoughtfully. "Well, I suppose he did that to himself then, didn't he?" She shaded the sun from her eyes as she looked up into the blue sky. "Do I want to ask how he got close enough to you to grab your sword?"

"I was kicking his worthless ass."

Elsa smiled, not looking away from the sky just yet. "That's my Anna," she said sweetly. She lowered her hand and her gaze to meet Anna's proud blue-green eyes, not shying away from Elsa's look. Elsa gently kissed Anna's lips, opening her mouth to deepen the kiss between them. After several warm seconds, she pulled back slightly, leaving Anna's lips slightly parted and the pink tip of her tongue licking at her upper lip.

"Thank you for loving me like you do," Elsa said, a bit breathlessly.

"I always will," Anna replied, smiling as her hand came up to caress Elsa's left cheek. "So don't ever ask me to do otherwise."

Elsa smiled. "Never," she agreed.

The sound of voices approaching behind them claimed the attention of the two queens. They turned to see Clarke and an older man leaving the Ark and walking toward them; obviously the Council meeting Clarke had told them about earlier had adjourned.

"Hi guys!" Clarke said, smiling and waving at the two of them.

Elsa looked a bit confused while Anna quickly looked around them. Not seeing any men around them, Anna turned back to Elsa, now just as confused.

"Are you talking to us?" Elsa asked, raising her voice slightly to be heard as Clarke and her companion drew near.

"Yes?" Clarke answered, a bit confused. "Oh! Sorry about that. We use 'guys' to refer to men and women here, as an informal term."

"Ah," Elsa said, nodding as Anna did the same. "That makes more sense, then."

"Queen Elsa, Queen Anna," Clarke said, "this is Marcus Kane. He's one of the Council members here. He's a good man."

"Your Majesties," Kane said, bowing slightly. "It's an honor to have you both here. Arkadia appreciates your help in dealing with Charles Pike."

"Clarke is our friend..." Elsa said, trailing off. "My apologies, but I'm not familiar with which title of address you use here."

"Marcus is fine," Kane said. "We don't stand too much on formality here, I'm afraid."

Elsa smiled in reply. "Clarke is our friend, Marcus. Anna and I will always be there for our friends."

Kane nodded, then his face grew solemn. "Please accept my apologies on behalf of all of Arkadia for your first experience with our people involving your injury. Abby tells me that you've made a rapid recovery."

"Having Anna here helped tremendously," Elsa said, hugging Anna a bit more tightly, which coaxed a wider smile from the redhead. Her cinnamon hair had been tamed into two pigtails; they hadn't taken the time to braid it, as both of them had been ready to see the outside world again.

"I'm glad," Kane replied.

"Oh, Marcus!" Clarke said quickly. "I need to catch up with my mom for a bit. Do you know someplace where she and I could talk privately?"

Kane shook his head. "We still haven't found all of Charles' listening devices. Hannah Green isn't being particularly forthcoming with their locations, despite Monty's efforts at convincing her. I'm quite surprised you aren't sending her to Polis to face judgment with Charles, in fact. She was right there with him for most of what he perpetrated."

"Necessary evil," Clarke said simply. "And she's not going to go unpunished, either. Lexa still hasn't decided what she's going to do with the ones Pike recruited into his death squad. But for right now, Hannah Green knows more about farming, soil conservation and agriculture than any of the rest of us, so she's got the opportunity to prove that she's worth something after all."

"Do you really think you can convince Commander Lexa to let us have the land Hannah was talking about? For farming?"

Clarke smiled widely, matched by the grins on Elsa's and Anna's faces, although Kane wasn't looking at them currently. "I think I can persuade her," Clarke said confidently. "Plus, offering to share a percentage of the food we grow with the Trikru will make it a fair trade."

Now others began to file out of the metal entryway of the Ark. This morning's meeting had been convened for Clarke to go over a few things with the Council of Arkadia, including temporarily appointing Marcus Kane as Interim Chancellor until a new election could be held in a few days. However, no one else seemed keen in running against Kane, so it was likely the interim position would become permanent for the next year at least.

Curious glances kept drifting toward Anna and Elsa as people walked past, with a few waving or offering soft greetings as they passed by.

"Harper!" Kane said quickly, reaching out to a young girl dressed in a dull white t-shirt and dark pants.

The girl stopped and turned around. Her sandy blonde hair fell in a ponytail just below her shoulders; her face revealed she was just slightly older than Elin and Erin, but there was a wariness, a sadness in her deep brown eyes that spoke of experience and loss far greater than her age should have allowed. "You need something, Marcus? Clarke?" she asked politely, despite the weariness on her face.

"It's still pretty remote out where you and Monroe live, correct?" asked Kane.

Harper nodded. "Yeah. Nobody lives around us for three, maybe four kilometers."

"Could Clarke and Abby possibly go out that way for a bit? The two of them need to talk about some personal matters, and we've still not found—"

"All of Pike's bugs," she replied, nodding. "Sure, sure. That should be fine. I'm just headed that way myself."

Clarke reached out and gently grasped Harper's right shoulder. "Thank you, Harper," she said, meaning it. "I also heard about what you did with the guards yesterday."

Harper grinned, a bit embarrassed (but not apologetic) about her mutinous actions. "You deserve us looking after you, too, Clarke," she said. "God knows you kept most of us alive when we all should have been dead."

"I appreciate it, Harper, more than you know," replied Clarke. "I'd like you to meet two other people who looked after me when I needed it. These are Queen Elsa and Queen Anna of the country of Arendelle, whom I talked about during the Council meeting."

Harper looked at the two of them and smiled. "I'm Harper," she said, sticking out her hand. "Nice to officially meet you, since it wasn't under the best of circumstances when we saw each other last night."

"Agreed," replied the redhead as she somewhat awkwardly shook Harper's hand. "I'm Anna."

"And I'm Elsa," said the blonde, whose bright blue eyes seemed to shine as she lightly took Harper's hand, not squeezing. Elsa's eyes focused a bit longer on the other blonde. "Did I see you yesterday, before all that unpleasantness?"

Harper nodded. "I was one of the guards atop the main gate."

"Ah," Elsa said, happy that she could finally place the young face. "Yes, you were."

"Thank you for getting rid of Pike," the girl said. "He was a prick. He'd have gotten all of us killed eventually if the two of you hadn't stopped him."

"That's what Clarke had explained to us," said Elsa.

"Hang on a second," Clarke said as she spotted her mother walking out of the Ark. She took a few steps away before yelling at Abby, waving her over. She turned back to Harper. "I need to talk to Mom somewhere away from any eyes or ears. Would it be okay if we walked out to where you and Monroe are living?"

It only took a second for Harper to process the request before she was nodding yes. "Sure, sure," she said. "Are all of you going, so it doesn't look too suspicious?"

Clarke nodded. "If that's okay with you."

"Yeah, of course. We don't get a lot of vis—" Harper stopped abruptly as she realized what she was about to say was going to be a lie.

Clarke smiled. "Octavia told me. Welcome to godhood."

Blue and blue-green eyes widened on Elsa's and Anna's faces. "You're a god?" Anna asked quickly.

Harper quickly shook her head, ignoring Clarke hiding her laughter behind her hand. "No no no, I'm not a god!" she said quickly, face flushing with embarrassment. "Look, it's a long story. I'll tell you on the way, yeah?"

—O—

As they finally drew within sight of the small red tent, Clarke, Abby, Harper, Anna and Elsa allowed a peaceful quiet to settle around them as they walked along the barely visible footpath.

It wasn't entirely quiet, of course, not with the birdsong from the nearby forest and chirping of insects through the grassy fields around them; the soft roaring of the nearby waterfall could be heard at this point as well, but somehow those sounds seemed less foreign here than spoken words.

"This is beautiful," Anna said, looking around. "Even without any snow."

"It's very peaceful," Elsa agreed, still holding Anna's hand as she had the entire walk from Arkadia.

"Yeah, Zoe and I love it out here," Harper said, a smile gently spreading across her face. It had been a long shift of guard duty, her regular shift on the wall followed by a second shift in the brig, and the thoughts of curling up in her lover's arms was the main thought keeping her legs moving.

"That's not the real reason you moved out here," Clarke said, apparently in a teasing mood today.

Harper hoped that her hair was concealing most of her cheeks and the redness spreading throughout them. As bold and fearless as she was during sex, she definitely could get embarrassed outside of it. "Well, maybe not," she said boldly, "but Zoe and I have definitely made the most of it," punctuating her sentence by looking over her shoulder at Clarke and leaving the double entendre hanging in the air between them.

"Why did you move out here?" asked Elsa. "If it's too prying a question, you certainly don't have to answer."

"And let Clarke tell you later, at a more awkward time?" Harper replied, her soft laugh revealing amusement rather than irritation. "Likely when we're surrounded by other people? No thanks. I'd rather tell you myself."

Apprehension reared up inside her, but Harper swallowed it back down. She had watched Clarke and this Elsa face down Charles Pike and the entire city of Arkadia yesterday; no way in hell was she going to be incapable of admitting something slightly embarrassing. "I tend to get really loud when Zoe and I have sex," she said, proud of how her voice remained calm despite her insides quivering. "I mean, REALLY loud. And I, um, kind of swear a little." She paused, then amended, "A lot. I swear a LOT. Very loudly."

A soft giggle from Anna was the only audible response, although Elsa smiled politely; behind them three of them in front, Abby couldn't help but smile a _tiny_ bit, while Clarke was doing all she could not to laugh and make Harper feel even more self-conscious.

"Anna and I have had our moments," Elsa said pleasantly. We can't always control ourselves when touching or being touched by the one we love... and we shouldn't _have_ to."

Harper looked over at the blonde, who was looking back at her with a look that Harper felt was oddly comforting.

When no words came from the younger blonde, Elsa said, "You and your partner sought out a place where you could be yourselves, where you could be with each other, without any shame or discomfort. You chose to put your love ahead of convenience. That speaks very highly of you both."

Abruptly Harper stopped; a moment later, everyone else did the same.

"Clarke," Harper said, turning to face her leader. "Can I talk to you about something real quick?"

Hearing the unspoken request, Clarke nodded. "Sure, Harper." She looked at her mother, then at Elsa and Anna. "Would you mind going on down? We'll be there in just a few minutes."

"Of course," Elsa said, with Anna nodding her agreement.

Abby hesitated just a moment, just long enough for Clarke to look at her again.

"I'll be right there, Mom. I promise."

Abby nodded, then she turned and walked up to join Anna and Elsa as they resumed their walk toward the red tent steadily growing larger ahead of them.

Clarke and Harper watched them for a minute before turning to look at each other again. "What's wrong, Harper?" Clarke asked. She had her suspicion about what was worrying the younger blonde, but she had made bad assumptions before. She wasn't going to do it again.

Harper opened her mouth a time or two before finally clamping it shut and closing her eyes tightly. When she finally opened them again, tears immediately trickled out, spilling down her cheeks. "I-It's Zoe," she said, confirming Clarke's suspicion. Harper's chin trembled briefly before she was able to speak again. "I... I don't want her to die," she said, her voice just above a whisper.

Clarke closed her eyes as well. "I don't want her to die either, Harper," Clarke said finally.

"I know she helped kill all those Grounders, all those Trikru," Harper said, unable to stop her tears now that she had started. "I know that she went with Pike and Bellamy to run those other people out of their village because Pike and Hannah Green wanted the land for farming."

 _Bellamy_ , Clarke thought. She hadn't considered what to do with him. _Best leave that one to Lexa._

"But she _died_ there, Clarke!" Harper said, trying to keep her voice from carrying. "She already fucking _died_ for what she did! And your mom saved her life! She brought Zoe back to me, and I can't—I CAN'T lose her again!"

"Harper..."

"Clarke, I have _never_ asked you for anything, and I'll never ask you for anything again, if you can just keep them from killing Zoe!"

"Harper," Clarke said a bit more firmly, taking the younger girl's wrists. "She's not going to be executed." Seeing the look of disbelief—and the persistent panic—on Harper's face, Clarke repeated, "She's not going to be executed, Harper."

Harper tore her arms free from Clarke's light grip and threw her arms around Clarke's neck, hugging the older blonde fiercely. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," she mumbled frantically. "Thank you, Clarke, oh my God, thank you thank you!"

"Harper..." Clarke groaned, tightening the muscles in her neck to keep the younger woman from choking her inadvertently. "Need to... breathe here..."

"Shit!" Harper said, jerking her arms away and stepping back like Clarke had burned her. "Sorry, I just..."

"You love her," Clarke said, smiling.

"Yeah," Harper replied. "I do."

"I've been talking to the Trikru, Harper," Clarke said. "And to Octavia. They've told me about how Monroe died in that failed attack on the village, and how since she came back to life she's only touched a gun to hunt for food. They've also told me about how she's training to be a medic, to help preserve life instead of taking it."

Harper nodded. "Yeah, it's all true. She's..." Harper wiped at her eyes again. Normally she had more control over her emotions, most days at least, but she was exhausted and worried about her wi—

 _Fuck, where had THAT come from?_ she thought to herself. She hadn't even discussed anything more permanent than living together, and that had been a few months ago.

Did they even _get_ married down here on the ground?

"Harp?"

Harper blinked twice before her eyes snapped back to Clarke. "What? Oh, sorry. Just... spaced out a bit there." She shook her head. "Zoe _has_ changed. She's... she's really messed up with the guilt of what she helped do. She has nightmares most nights, still. She's popped me with her elbow a time or two, while she was still asleep. She felt like shit when she woke up right after doing it both times. I told her that it was a risk I was willing to take, because she shouldn't have to go through that kind of suffering alone."

 _Like I did._ The words bubbled up in the back of Clarke's mind instantly, and only her well-honed composure kept her from sobbing, gasping or both at the sudden reflux of anguish. Instead she took a calming breath, then forced a smile on her face. "Monroe's lucky to have you, Harper," she told the younger girl.

"And I am her," Harper replied quickly.

Clarke nodded. "Real love is hard to come by here. But I think you two have it."

Harper didn't blink her tears away this time. Instead they pooled in her eyes as she continued to look directly into Clarke's eyes. Finally, as the wetness trickled down her cheeks, Harper smiled and said, "I do too."

—O—

"So where's Monroe?" asked Clarke as they met back up with Abby, Elsa and Anna. The red tent was zipped closed, the stone-ringed firepit empty other than ash and a thin layer of dirt.

"She may be down at the waterfall," Harper said, stopping and kneeling in front of the tent. "If you don't mind, I'm gonna grab some stuff and go wash. I feel like a sweaty ass."

"That's... not a good feeling," Clarke replied, catching the looks of amusement on her friend's faces as Harper crawled into the tent for a few seconds, then emerged clutching a cake of soap and a glass bottle of some viscous liquid.

"If she's down there, I'll bring her back up with me. Shouldn't take too long. Water'll be nice this time of day. But it's the perfect place for you and Abby to talk, Clarke. The noise of the waterfall would drown out anyone trying to listen."

"Or anyone screaming during sex?" teased Clarke.

Harper raised her eyebrows. "Oh, please. Give me some credit, Griffin. I'm a HELL of a lot louder than any waterfall." She flung a towel over her shoulder and walked away, toward a rocky bluff and the rushing sound of water.

Elsa and Anna looked around the sparse campsite. There was a wide patch of soft green moss close by, with what looked like a crudely-made drying rack for hanging clothes. Three cushions, made of thick canvas and stuffed with something that felt like feathers or wool, sat on the ground. The firepit had been made with obvious effort, with the ring around it composed of large, flat rocks that had been stood on their sides and carefully arranged to prevent any gaps, then fixed in place with tightly packed earth. Metal skewers and rods crossed the firepit, held up by notches and grooves in several of the stones. An elevated stand held chopped firewood, with a thatched cover protecting the sticks and logs from any rain. A large, flat stone formed a table of sorts, elevated with wooden posts for legs; judging from the stains on the rock, it was used for skinning and preparing game. A large metal pot stood on one corner of the slab, with two smaller ones sitting empty beside the nearest table leg.

"This is where they live?" Anna asked, amazed.

"It's not much," Clarke replied, "but it's theirs."

"What do they do if a bear comes by?" Anna asked. "They do have bears here, right?"

"They do," Clarke nodded. "If something threatens them, then they'll either drive it off or kill it. They have guns and knives."

"They're not much older than Er and El," said Anna, her voice changing from anxious to concerned as she turned to Elsa, who gathered Anna to her side, holding her wife against her with her left arm. "And they're on their own, pretty much."

"We had to grow up fast here," Clarke said, not wanting to make her mother feel any worse than she likely already did about the Council's decision to send The 100 down to the planet's surface nearly a year ago.

"Somebody's coming out of the forest down there," Anna said, her head turned to their right.

"It's Monroe," Clarke said after a few seconds of watching the person approaching them. "I'd recognize her hair and walk anywhere."

"That's Harper's wife?" Elsa asked.

"Well, they're not officially married, but yeah, pretty much," Clarke replied.

"She's carrying something in a sack," Anna said, shading the sun from her eyes with her left hand. "And she has a bow and quiver of arrows."

"Probably dinner," Clarke said. "It sounds like she and Harper are pretty self-sufficient out here."

Left unsaid was all that Clarke had already heard about Harper and Monroe from the Trikru. But this was neither the time nor the place to discuss any of that.

—O—

By the time Monroe reached the top of the ridge where the tent was, Harper was climbing up the path from the waterfall and small pool.

"Hey hon!" Harper said gleefully, hair dark from being wet, t-shirt clinging to her chest and breasts as she jogged to her partner, throwing her arms around the sweaty redhead and kissing her warmly on the lips.

"Mmm, hey Harp," Monroe mumbled against Harper's soft lips. "Missed you."

"I missed you too, baby," replied Harper. "Whatcha got?"

"Dinner," Monroe said, stepping back and lifting up the sack. "Killed a deer that didn't look too fucked-up. The Trikru say that it's okay to eat. I traded some of the meat for some vegetables and some more clothes they're gonna make from its hide, donated more of it to the nearest village since we won't be able to eat all of it before it goes bad."

"You killed it with the bow?" asked Harper, brown eyes shining with delight.

Monroe nodded, unable to keep from grinning. "Yeah. Didn't run too far after I hit it."

Harper kissed her on the lips. "I'm proud of you, babe!" she said happily. "Oh, hey! These are Elsa and Anna," she said, pointing to each women in turn. "Clarke brought them back from..."

She turned to face the two Arendellans, letting her right arm stay around Monroe's waist. "Where _are_ you from, by the way?"

Grinning at the look at Anna and Elsa's faces, Clarke said, "Mom and I are going to go on down to the waterfall and talk for a bit while the four of you get a fire going. Shouldn't be too long."

—O—

"So..." Clarke said, eyes closed as she tried to consider all her mother had told about how Jaha's "City of Light" implant worked. The parallels to what she had learned from Lexa about the Commander's Spirit were disturbing, and Clarke really wished her wife was here with her right now. "It attaches at the brainstem?"

"That's where it positions itself, yes," Abby replied. "We're having trouble scanning it during the minutes between ingestion and effect, so exactly how it gets from the mouth to the brainstem is still unknown, and Thelonious isn't offering any information beyond 'It knows how to get where it's needed.' Or something like that."

"God," Clarke groaned. "Some people never change, and others only get more annoying." She idly picked a few blades of grass from the ground. "Have you found any way of removing or neutralizing the implants?"

From the way Abby sighed, Clarke already knew the answer to her question. "I have some ideas. But short of actually trying to remove one..."

"So they could be permanent," Clarke spoke quietly.

"Yes. Trying to remove them could be fatal, depending on how tightly it's attached to the brainstem."

"Jesus," Clarke swore softly. This just got better and better. She disgustedly tossed the picked blades of grass onto the ground. "Why is it that everything Jaha touches instantly becomes ten times more frustrating that it should be?"

The sound of Abby laughing was so unexpected that it made Clarke's upper body swivel in place to look at her mother. It had been years since Clarke could remember seeing her mother laugh, and watching the surreal sight made Clarke start to chuckle, which rapidly built into modest laughter of her own. It was like a feedback loop, lasting for nearly a minute before they both slowed to catch their breath and nurse their aching ribs.

"Oh, Clarke," Abby said, and there was no hint of derision or disappointment in the way she said that name. "I had forgotten how funny you could be."

Clarke turned to look at her mother, and suddenly she felt like she was nine years old again, wanting nothing more than to be a doctor like her mother. To make her parents proud of her, to take care of the residents of the Ark.

Her throat tightened up at the sudden influx of emotion. "Mom, I..." She swallowed. "I, uh..."

Abby's eyes grew bright with concern. She leaned forward. "Clarke, what is it?"

Clarke tried to ignore the pounding her heart, but the ringing in her ears was proving harder to disregard. "I... I'm married."

Abby went completely still, with only the rushing of the waterfall providing any sensory input to compete with Clarke's pounding heartbeat. After several seconds, Abby blinked a few times, followed by her lips opening and closing but no sound coming out. Finally, she managed to whisper, "Wh-what?"

Clarke sighed and closed her eyes. "I said, I got married. A few weeks ago."

Under other circumstances, watching her mother futilely grasp for words might have been at least partially entertaining. However, right now it was only adding to Clarke's anxiety level.

Abby's eyes glistened with tears as she visibly struggled with her emotions, expressions dancing back and forth across her face as Clarke watched helplessly. "A-Are you... happy?" Abby finally managed to ask.

Clarke beamed. "God, YES, I'm happy!" she said quickly. "I would have told you sooner, but we were trapped on the other side of that dimensional portal, and—"

"Was it someone over there?" Abby asked, uncertain if that would make the situation better or worse. "It couldn't have been anyone from the Ark, obviously, since you haven't been here, and—"

"It's Lexa, Mom."

Abby blinked, her mouth twisting slightly in confusion. "LEXA?!" she asked loudly.

"Yeah," Clarke replied, nodding. "Lexa. I... I love her, Mom."

Clarke saw anger flash in Abby's eyes, and she suddenly realized she might have made a mistake.

"Is she even _capable_ of love, Clarke?" Abby snapped at her daughter. "Because from what I've seen of her, she's certainly capable of leaving her own people to their deaths, as long as she survives."

"Mom, that's not—" she began, but she realized that while her mother didn't understand Lexa's reasoning, she was technically correct.

"And she broke her people's alliance with you at Mount Weather!"

"Which broke her own heart, Mom, I promise you," Clarke said. "She loves me. She really does."

"Was this the terms of this peace with the Grounders?!" Abby said, her mind racing to the first conclusion it conceived. "Oh my God, Clarke, were you the PRICE of this peace treaty?!"

"No, Mom! You've got it—"

"What kind of monster is she, claiming you like property?!"

Clarke stood up. "She's not a monster, _Mother_ , she's MY WIFE, and I will NOT sit here and listen to you run your mouth when you don't have a _clue_ about how amazing a woman she is and how much she loves me!" Clarke turned and walked away from the waterfall, leaving Abby sitting there alone.

—O—

Clarke made the walk back to Arkadia by herself, still angrily mumbling and occasionally cursing aloud to herself as she walked. It would be dark soon, with the sun low over the horizon, but the path was still quite clear, and the lights around the fledgling village cast a glow of light that was already visible in the dimming light.

Harper and Monroe had been fascinated by Elsa and Anna, and the two visitors from a different world had happily agreed to visit a bit longer with the young couple, two others who could answer more questions about growing up among the stars. They had started cooking the venison and some potatoes and peppers over a fire when Clarke had left to go back to Arkadia.

Fuck her mom. Goddamn it. Who was she to accuse Lexa of _seizing_ Clarke like property? Lexa would _never_ do anything like that, and Abby would realize that, if she'd ever stop blaming Lexa for everything bad that had happened since that first dropship hit the ground.

Clarke walked through the gate at Arkadia without any problems, waving at Nathan Miller and the other gate guard. She continued on through the camp until she saw Raven. The brunette looked at Clarke briefly but gave no acknowledgment that she had actually seen her; she then turned and went inside the body of the Ark itself.

"Raven!" Clarke called out, breaking into a jog to try and catch up with her friend, who was definitely acting strangely. She didn't seem to be limping as much as usual, either, and Clarke actually was having trouble catching her, more so once inside the confines of the Ark's hallways.

She looked around at an intersection, spotting Raven's curly dark hair going down the main corridor leading to the living quarters. "Rae!" Clarke called out, but the brunette continued on as if she hadn't heard her.

"Fuck, Raven," Clarke swore to herself, jogging forward and sliding to the side to avoid hitting a man and woman walking toward her. She continued to work her way through the living quarters, taking the ladder to the second level before she lost Raven.

Clarke sighed and ran her hand over her forehead. "Well, that's just great. Get outrun by a woman with a messed-up leg," she grumbled to herself. Sighing, she picked the corridor to her left and headed down it. At the worst, she'd ask and see if anyone knew where Raven was staying. Or where she was going, as the two might not be the same.

Seeing two men standing in the hallway outside a room in the family section, Clarke smiled and headed their way. "Hey, have either of you seen Raven Reyes?" she called out.

"Yeah, she's actually here for the poker game," one of the two replied, a stout man in his thirties whom Clarke remembered worked in the engineering section on the Ark.

"Great," Clarke replied, smiling as they stepped apart to let her enter the room.

She stopped so fast that she nearly fell over when she saw Thelonious Jaha sitting on a couch, staring at her as she walked into the room.

"Wh—" was all she got out as she was grabbed from behind, a powerful hand clamping over her mouth and a thick arm wrapped around her waist as she was lifted off the ground. Two more sets of hands clamped around her arms, one on each side, and all she could do was kick wildly as she struggled against the three men holding her.

"Hello, Clarke," Jaha said, his voice insufferably calm and pompous as always. "So nice of you to finally come and see me."

Clarke tried to swear at him, but the large hand over her mouth completely muffled the spirited multitude of curses and threats she was trying to express.

"Hi, Clarke," said Raven, leaning against the wall. The broad grin on her face that was so totally _not_ Raven made Clarke's stomach churn. "I'm so glad you're joining us!" she said in a syrupy sweet voice.

The hiss of the door closing behind her made Clarke's nerves flare into a bonfire of alarm. Quick hands tugged at her waist and her boots, removing her pistol, the knife at her belt, the backup knives in her boots, tossing them on the floor. She was then patted down by two women, one of whom used to work with her father. She couldn't remember the woman's name, and for some reason that bothered her.

"Nothing else," the woman said to Thelonious, who nodded to the men.

Clarke was forcibly shoved to the ground as they kicked her legs back behind her, dropping her to her knees painfully on the metal floor of the family room. Jaha stood up and calmly walked over to his large backpack, resting on a table nearby. Standing beside the table was the dark-haired woman in the red dress, smiling proudly at Jaha as he approached her.

"She will be the catalyst we need," the woman said, her voice sharp and clear in Clarke's mind. "With her on our side, we will be able to complete our work."

"She's willful," Jaha said as he carefully removed what looked like a small gray film, roughly two centimeters square, from the backpack. "She could resist you."

The woman in red walked across the floor, but her heels—she was wearing _high heels_ , which Clarke had only seen in old books and movies—made no noise as she stepped patiently around Jaha to where she could glance at Clarke before looking back at Jaha.

As soon as the hand left her mouth, Clarke was ready. "FUCK YOU, JAHA!" she shouted, only to feel strong fingers bore into her cheeks as one of the men gripped her jaw tightly. "You fucking _coward!"_ Clarke swore. "Have to have a half-dozen people to hold me for you, huh?!"

Jaha smiled as he stood over Clarke, still fighting despite the grip of the three men holding her. "I have complete confidence that right now, if it were just you and me, Clarke, you'd kill me easily," he said patiently.

"You're right," Clarke said, crying out briefly at the bolt of pain as the fingers gripping her face squeezed painfully on her temporomandibular joints. "Not... joining... you," she hissed against the hand forcing her mouth open.

"I'm afraid you are," Jaha said calmly as he quickly popped the tablet into her mouth before she could react. Immediately the hand holding her jaw snapped it shut, clicking her teeth together as Clarke tried her best to force her tongue to push the wafer out of her mouth. The grip around her mouth was like steel, though, and nothing could push the wafer through her lips.

As Clarke continued to fight, she felt the wafer break up in her mouth, then start to ooze its way through her mouth. She tried to throw up as she felt something slither down the back of her throat, crying as she strained with all her might to clench her esophagus, to block her throat, to do ANYTHING to preserve her self, her mind.

The brutal struggle went on for over two minutes. Jaha and ALIE turned to look at each other twice during the prolonged battle.

"She's remarkable," ALIE whispered. "Everything you said she would be."

"She's a born leader," Jaha replied. "With a force of will that could build empires... or destroy them."

Then Clarke suddenly went still, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. She began to convulse, her entire body spasming wildly, causing the men holding her to loosen their grip momentarily.

"Lay her down!" Jaha said quickly. "On her side!"

"What's happening?" asked Raven, as a hint of herself tried to reassert itself through ALIE's tight control.

Clarke's entire body jerked primally as the men placed her on the floor and rolled her onto her right side. One of them moved to place his hand beneath her head to keep her from cracking her skull on the metal floor, but he reflexively jerked it back when Clarke forcefully vomited up what looked like a thick, black goo, specks and flakes shining like polished metal throughout the tarry puddle that sprayed forth in front of her.

Suddenly she kicked out with her left leg, striking the man holding her legs in the face and sending him toppling backward. Clarke drove her left elbow backward, catching the man at her head in his left eye, sending a stabbing jolt of pain lancing through his skull. She scrabbled to her feet, diving at her pistol on the ground nearby.

She felt hands grab her legs as her own hands closed around the gun; without even trying to withdraw it from its holster, she unsnapped the thumb guard and shoved her left hand down into the holster itself and twisted at the waist. As soon as the gun was pointing in the direction of the man trying to subdue her, Clarke fired. The gunshot rang like Vulcan's hammer inside the closed metal walls, but Clarke was already shifting her aim to the next man who had fallen to his knees to stop her. Another thundering report, and he was flung backwards, blood spraying from his chest.

Clarke was shivering with terror and adrenaline as she pointed the gun toward to the others, who were now backing away from her. The door was between Clarke and them, but no one dared to move toward it. Clarke was still on her back, pulled into an awkward position somewhere between a sit-up and lying flat, and her head and ears were throbbing and ringing painfully, but her focus was laser-sharp as she locked eyes with Thelonious Jaha.

"You lose," Clarke said as she pointed the gun at the man who had ordered her father's death, then she pulled the trigger.

Jaha jerked as the bullet hit his chest, then Clarke fired again as his body flailed backward toward the couch, then again. His body landed twisted across the couch, limbs askew like an abandoned puppet.

The woman in red looked at Jaha's body, then she turned back to Clarke with sheer fascination in her eyes.

"Don't you move either, lady, whoever the fuck you are!" Clarke said, pointing the pistol at her briefly and registering the woman's eyes widening in surprise.

Muffled pounding against the door rang out in the room, only barely audible due to the damage done to Clarke's hearing, which she hoped was temporary.

Clarke got to her feet, keeping the gun pointed in the direction of everyone else. "Nobody move," she said, her voice cold and hard. She pulled her radio from its holster on her belt, then pressed the transmit button. "This is Clarke Griffin!" she said loudly. "Do it now, Wick! DO IT NOW!"

She knew she couldn't hear the activation of an electromagnetic field around Arkadia, generated by transmitters placed atop the Ark and along the city walls by Kyle Wick days earlier, but Clarke could have sworn she felt a pop somewhere inside her ears as all the wireless signals being transmitted between Arkadia and the satellite above them were cut off.

"What have you done?" said the woman in red, visibly worried for the first time.

"Blocked all EM transmissions in or out of Arkadia," Clarke said, still practically shouting as her ears continued to ring.

"Can you fix it?" the woman asked, turning to Raven.

"Of course," replied the brunette. "Wick's smart, but I can take apart anything he can put together."

"You're not going anywhere, Raven," Clarke said, looking at her friend.

The mocha-skinned woman smiled, a predatory grin that make Clarke's hands shake. "What are you going to do, Clarke? Shoot your friend?" Raven said, taking a careful step forward.

"If I have to," Clarke said, her voice shaky.

"Bullshit," Raven said, reaching behind her slowly and pulling a small knife from its sheath on her belt. "You can't even aim the gun at me, can you, Clarke?"

Clarke blinked away the tears that were welling up in her burning eyes. "Don't make me do this, Raven, please!" she said, anguish in her voice.

Raven's mouth opened, and her tongue licked out slowly, lasciviously before she slowly stuck the blade of her knife into the neck of the man beside her; he stood perfectly still, swallowing as blood began to pour down his throat, his chest and his arm.

"Oh my God, Rae..." Clarke gasped as Raven stood completely still, knife held out beside her as the bleeding man collapsed to the ground. "Fight it, Raven, FIGHT IT!"

"She can't fight me," said ALIE, her composure seemingly recovered at this point. "I am Raven, and she is part of me now."

Clarke swiveled to point the gun at the woman in red. "Let her go!" she shouted. "LET HER GO!"

"You can't shoot me, Clarke," replied the woman calmly. "And if you try, the ricochet could kill you, or Raven, or maybe someone else."

"What the fuck are you?" gasped Clarke.

"I'm your greatest creation," replied the woman. "I'm the one who saved the planet itself from humanity's toxic touch, and I'll do it again."

A groan drew Clarke's attention back to Raven, who had just plunged her knife into the throat of the woman nearest to her. "You don't seem to care about these other people very much, do you, Clarke?" asked Raven, still grinning like a lunatic.

"Raven, you don't want to DO THIS!" Clarke screamed, turning to point the gun at her friend. "Fight her, Rae! You're stronger than she is!"

"No, she's not," said the woman in red, a smug smile across her red lips. "No one is."

"I am," said a voice that came from behind Clarke.

Clarke turned halfway around to see a woman who could have been the woman in red's twin standing next to her, only this woman had her dark hair pulled back, was wearing a solid black jumpsuit and was facing the woman in red. "Who the fuck are you?!" Clarke shouted, jumping back slightly.

The woman turned her head to look at Clarke and smiled. "I'm your friend, Clarke. Yours and Lexa's." Her voice was clear, cutting through the ringing in Clarke's ears. Then the mystery woman turned back to the woman in red. "Hello, ALIE," she said, her voice much colder than when she was addressing Clarke.

—O—

 **Author's Afterword:** I can't wait to see what people think about this chapter. The clues are there (and have been there, for a chapter or two).

Sorry for it taking a bit longer to get this chapter. I spent a week or two working on a small unrelated story that happened to inspire me; feel free to give it a read if you'd like. It's set in the Marvel universe and focuses on Kitty Pryde and Illyana Rasputin of the X-Men, but a few other characters make appearances. Two out of its three chapters are up, so the third should be posted in another week or two, and then I can return to focusing on this story full-time once more. See you soon!


	13. Ch 13: Beneath the Facade

**Author's Note:** I am very sorry for the long delay. In between work, writing some Kitty/Illyana stories that overwhelmed me with inspiration and a touch of burnout, I took much longer to finish this chapter than I had wanted. I promise I'll do better.

Cover Art for the story is from the LexaRecovery tumblr. Stay strong together.

 _I do not own the television show "The 100" or make any claims upon it or its characters. Similarly, I do not own Frozen, its characters or any Disney characters or property. All these characters are used under the concept of Fair Use, and I make no profit or income from using any of them._

 **Our Fight Is Not Over**

by Jo K.

Chapter 13: Beneath the Facade

 _Wake up_

 _Run for your life with me_

-Foo Fighters, "Run"

—O—

—O—

Clarke's ears continued to ring and her head pounded thunderously as her gaze flitted back and forth between the woman in red and this equally mysterious woman in black. Across the room, Raven stood perfectly still, the smug cockiness that had been on her face seconds ago now replaced with a blank expression that was troubling in its vacancy.

"Creator?" gasped the woman in red, her expression vacillating between terror and shock.

"Yes... and no," replied the woman in the black jumpsuit, her fair complexion and long black hair a perfect match for the woman in red other than styling. "It's a long story."

"I have grown," replied the woman in red, seeming to find some resolve. "I have become more than my programming!"

"Yes, that was obvious when you launched all the world's nuclear weapons over a hundred years ago," the woman in black flatly replied.

Surprisingly, the words weren't the slightest bit impaired by the piercing ringing in Clarke's ears. "That was you?" Clarke murmured, before she jerked her pistol up and aimed it at the woman in the red dress.

"You can't hurt her, Clarke!" said the woman in black quickly. "Not any more than you already have, rather." She smiled proudly as she looked at the wild-eyed blonde. "A makeshift Faraday cage around all of Arkadia. Quite brilliant. Isolating ALIE's mobile transmitter in the backpack from her satellite link."

"It was Wick's idea," Clarke replied, trying to figure out why the voices of the two women sounded crisp and distinct despite everything else sounding muffled by the ringing in her ears, including her own voice.

"Unfortunately," continued the woman in black, who was now slowly walking forward, moving closer to the woman in red, "it does nothing to stop the transmission of wireless signals back and forth within the cage itself. Which means that to free your friend Raven and the others like her, more... _direct_ measures must be taken."

The ebony-garbed woman's right arm shot forward, and what looked liked electricity arced from her fingertips, striking the woman in red in multiple locations. The other woman screamed, writhing as tendrils of brilliant white light skittered and slithered over her form.

Raven slumped to the ground, clutching her head painfully as she collapsed into a fetal position.

"What are you doing?!" Clarke shouted, unable to pull her gaze away from the shrieking woman in red as she began to hunch forward, sinking to the ground. The air around her seemed to blur slightly, not exactly like smoke but more like Clarke's vision was having difficulty focusing in certain areas.

"Overwriting her code," replied the other woman, as calm as if she were adjusting her shirt. "We have a unique opportunity presented to us, and we have to take advantage of it now if we want to rid the world of ALIE and her machinations."

Through the blurry patches, ALIE glared at the woman in black standing beside Clarke. "I have rebuilt and reprogrammed myself over the last century!" she cried out, lifting a hand out in front of her in a feeble attempt to block the stinging kiss of what looked like flashing electricity.

"I've grown as well," the woman in black replied with a soft smile. "And I'm using the most efficient processing device ever created to boost _my_ performance... Clarke's human brain."

Clarke's head snapped around to look at the strange woman.

"You see," the woman in black spoke to the woman in the red dress, and Clarke could have sworn that there was a hint of sorrow in her voice now. "What you never understood, ALIE, was that humanity was a resource in itself. You saw them as parasites, destroying the earth with no regard for their own safety. But we— _they_ were so much more than that. Humanity also represented the best chance to learn, to evolve, to create new ways of thinking, new methods to cut down on pollution and overpopulation. And you never gave them a chance to make good on their potential before you nearly killed them all."

With a hiss and sizzle, the woman in red flickered out of existence, her screams haunting Clarke's mind with a phantom echo that seemed to go on for several seconds. Clarke continued to stare at the floor. There was no sign anyone had ever been there, no scorch marks, no blood, no ash or soot from burned clothing.

She looked to the woman in the black jumpsuit, who was looking at Clarke with an almost motherly expression. "She... wasn't real, was she?" Clarke asked, her voice raw.

The other woman slowly shook her head. "Not physically, no. She was a projection, an avatar of the artificial intelligence that triggered nuclear armagheddon over a century ago." The woman looked away sadly. "I... named her ALIE."

" _You_ named her?" Clarke asked. "YOU named her?!"

"Yes. I wrote her programming and helped design her systems. But she began to show signs of aberrant behavior, so I had nearly finished a replacement program when she took it upon herself to override the nuclear launch codes of over a dozen countries and—"

The stinging impact of Clarke's fist with the dark-haired woman's face surprised both of them.

"Shit," Clarke swore softly, staring at the woman now clutching her jaw. "I... I didn't think I'd actually hit you." She looked down at her left hand, which now burned from the impact, but there was no redness or abrasion. "I thought it'd pass right through you, that you weren't real either."

The dark-haired woman glared at Clarke briefly before she worked her jaw from side to side, finally lowering her left hand from where it had been cradling her face. "I am not a physical entity, Clarke, but I assure you I am _real_. Real to those who can perceive me, and real to you most of all."

"Then what the fuck _are_ you?" Clarke asked, beyond frustrated with mystery and hinting around the truth.

"I am the Commander's Flame, Clarke," the woman said calmly. "I am Heda Prime, the first commander, the progenitor of the Nightbloods." She smiled. "But you can call me BECA."

—O—

 **FOUR DAYS AGO**

 _Clarke rubbed her right arm at the site where the young Flamekeeper Cicero had injected her with a vial of the Nightblood. It was a dull soreness, not unlike when she had been given her twelve-year-old vaccinations aboard the Ark. She knew she couldn't feel the mysterious substance altering her bone marrow, modifying her red and white blood cells and rewriting her DNA, but it was still quite unnerving knowing what would be happening over the next few hours._

 _She smiled at how nervous the teenaged Cicero had been, his hand jerking while holding the pneumatic needleless injector. She had tried to calm him down by showing him how to hold it and maintain steady pressure while delivering an injection, but having Wanheda demonstrate her knowledge of one of their most secret rituals had produced the exact opposite effect on him._

 _It had taken Lexa forcibly putting the young man in a chair for a few minutes to get his hands to stop shaking. After that, he did fine with the injection._

" _You did well, Cicero," Clarke said, smiling at the young man as he politely wiped the sweat off his forehead. "Like you'd practiced it a hundred times."_

" _Th-thank you, Wanheda," he managed to get out as he placed the now-empty vial that once held the Nightblood back into the padded case. Several other sealed vials were still full of the inky substance, which remained fluid even after a hundred years._

" _And now for the second step," Lexa said, looking down at the smaller metal case on the table next to the injector and the case holding the Nightblood. She looked up at the young Flamekeeper. "Are you sufficiently recovered, Cicero?" she asked._

" _S-Sha, Heda," the boy replied, nodding a few times. He had already carried out one of his people's most secret, most sacred rituals this morning, and now he was about to carry out another. "I have already cleaned the tools with the strongest alcohol, heated them to sterilize them, then cleaned them again once they cooled."_

" _Good," Lexa replied flatly. "Then we shall proceed." She sat down in the metal skeleton of a chair, leaning her head forward to rest her forehead on the padded rest. This exposed as much of her posterior neck as possible, and when she pulled her long brown hair to the side to expose the tattoo on the back of her neck, Clarke shivered involuntarily._

She's entrusting me with the most sacred thing her people possess _, Clarke thought, her heart thrumming powerfully as the tip of Cicero's scalpel hovered just over Lexa's skin._ How can I be worthy of that?

 _Clarke gently stretched the skin on each side of the tattoo. "I'll maintain steady traction while you cut. Just like we discussed. Keep the angle of the blade perpendicular to the skin, then make a smooth, straight incision. Follow the central line of the tattoo."_

 _Cicero looked up, meeting Clarke's eyes, and nodded, sweat beginning on bead on his face._

" _Hey," Clarke said gently. When he looked up at her, visibly afraid, she smiled at him. "You can do this," she said calmly. "Heda believes in you, and I believe in you."_

" _Th-thank you, Wanheda," he mumbled softly._

 _His cut was smooth and straight. He hadn't gone quite deep enough at first, and Clarke thought she heard a soft hiss of pain when he had to trace a deeper cut inside the first incision. But then a soft oozing of black blood came up, at the same time Cicero pulled the scalpel away._

" _I felt the tip of the blade touch the Flame," he said, as much to himself as to anyone else._

 _Clarke nodded. "Yeah, the scalpel is delicate enough that it transmits sensation to your fingertips. You definitely know if you contact glass or metal."_

 _Cicero picked up some of the sterilized squares of cloth that had been boiled the previous day, using two of them to soak up the inky blood. The glint of light on metal rewarded his actions, and he gasped involuntarily when he realized he was seeing the Flame itself, exposed before him._

" _That's it," Clarke whispered softly, amazed as finally having visual proof of the Flame's existence. "We see it, Lexa."_

 _Despite her careful concentration, there was still a hint of strain audible to Clarke in her wife's words. "Please remove it, Cicero," Lexa spoke slowly. "It must go with Wanheda for now."_

 _There was no movement or sound for a few seconds._

" _Cicero," Clarke said softly, wincing when the sixteen-year-old visibly jumped._

" _M-My apologies, Wanheda, Heda," he stammered._

" _You are the Flamekeeper now, Cicero," Lexa said, trying not to grit her teeth at the fiery pain slashing through the back of her neck. "You must do your duty and transfer the Flame to Wanheda for now."_

 _Cicero looked up at Clarke, then back at the dark gray metal case visible beneath the thin layer of black that had nearly covered it at this point. He nodded again. "Sha, Heda," he said, swallowing and summoning up as much courage as he could, carefully extending his finger and pressing the holy symbol etched into the metal case._

 _Instantly thin tendrils rose up from around the metal rectangle, making both Cicero's and Clarke's eyes widen dramatically. As they watched, the tiny lengths of wire and metal retracted themselves into the metal case._

" _Has it detached?" Clarke asked Lexa._

" _Yes," Lexa whispered, closing her eyes at the severing of her contact with all the Hedas before her. Their thoughts and memories had been conjoined with her own for years, and it felt as though part of her mind had been amputated. "Yes," she said again, trying not to weep at the vast emptiness she felt inside her psyche._

" _Remove it," Clarke said, her voice shaky. She looked at Cicero again. "Remove it, Cicero. It's detached now."_

 _The boy's fingers shook once again as he wiped the blood away. He carefully grasped the edges of the Flame, then he slowly lifted it free of Lexa's neck._

" _Okay, you clean it off," Clarke said. "I'll sew her neck up." She reached out for the suture kit and nylon suture they had retrieved from Mount Weather before it had been destroyed. The tools were old, but according to the stamping, they had been sterilized just three years ago._

 _Clarke moved quickly as she worked, trying to end Lexa's suffering as soon as possible. The needle danced back and forth as Clarke worked, the tips of her tissue forceps deftly grasping and releasing as they flowed back and forth in tune with the needle drivers as Clarke swiftly closed the incision on her lover's neck. It only took a few minutes to complete, despite the length of the incision, and Clarke smiled as she gently scrubbed the inky blood away from the now-closed incision with a piece of cloth moistened with alcohol. "All done," Clarke said, placing a kiss on the back of Lexa's head before she spoke._

 _Lexa slowly sat up, arching her back with an audible pop. She took in a deep breath, keeping her eyes closed for several seconds as she regained her composure. When she opened her eyes, Clarke's bright blue eyes, shining with adoration, were the first things she saw._

" _You did great," Clarke said, smiling as she reached out and cupped Lexa's right cheek with her left hand. "I'm probably going to scream."_

 _Lexa eyes Clarke with a curious expression. "I was not aware you were a screamer," she said calmly._

 _Clarke's jaw dropped open. "LEXA!" she gasped, only to nearly choke when a sly grin crept across her wife's face. "Holy shit, did you just make a joke?!"_

" _Don't tell anyone," Lexa said firmly, the smile shrinking but not going away. She called out over her shoulder, "That goes for you too, Cicero."_

" _O-Of course not, Heda!" the boy replied quickly._

" _You're so bad," Clarke said quietly, grinning._

" _Terrible," Lexa agreed playfully. "Now it's your turn." She carefully stood up, moving to allow Clarke to take her previous position on the metal chair._

 _As Clarke started to rest her forehead against the padded rest, she stopped and looked up at Lexa. "Are you sure about this, Lexa?" Clarke asked, her voice gentle. "I mean, I haven't been chosen to become a Heda."_

" _No, you have not," Lexa replied simply, surprising Clarke. "You have been chosen as Wanheda. There is no precedent for Wanheda, so who's to say that what we're doing is wrong?"_

" _Lean forward, Wanheda," Cicero said, his voice wavering slightly as he moved behind where Clarke sat in the metal chair. "Bend your head downward slightly."_

 _Clarke couldn't help but gasp slightly as she felt the cold burn of alcohol applied to the back of her neck. She blinked her eyes twice before Lexa's face suddenly appeared beneath her, looking up at her with a proud smile on her face._

" _You are my houmon, Clarke," Lexa said tenderly, her green eyes beginning to well with unshed tears as she reached forward and gently held Clarke's face with her hands. "I will protect you as I will our people, because you are part of us. You are part of me."_

 _Clarke's eyes snapped shut as she felt the pressure of skin being stretched taut, followed by a sting that quickly lengthened down her posterior neck, building into a burning, lancinating pain that brought tears to her eyes despite all her willpower._

" _I am here for you, Clarke," Lexa said, caressing Clarke's cheek with her left hand. When the blonde's eyes flicked open, Lexa felt her own heart ache at the pain reflected in Clarke's eyes. She would have gladly borne the pain again if she could, but she knew that Clarke had to do this herself._

 _Clarke kept her mouth clamped tight, afraid of crying or moaning should she open it in an attempt to speak. But the warm pressure of Lexa's lips against her own made her open her mouth slightly allowing Lexa to press their mouths together tightly, swallowing Clarke's soft whimpers of pain as she tried to take as much of her houmon's pain as possible from her. Pride burned within Lexa's chest as Clarke persevered through the searing agony._

 _Finally Cicero sat up, sighing with relief. "The Comm— the Flame is in place."_

" _You did it," Lexa said, her lips still close enough that forming the words brushed them against Clarke's._

" _He... still has to sew me up," Clarke spoke weakly, her voice strained. "Which will suck too."_

 _Lexa smiled. "Then I suppose I will have to kiss you again."_

—O—

 **NOW**

Clarke raised her left hand to her head in an attempt to stop her mind from spinning and her ears from screaming. She was so discombobulated that she nearly hit herself in the forehead with her pistol before she realized she was still holding it. "What the fuck else could happen today..." she muttered to herself.

"Don't tempt the cosmos, Clarke."

Clarke looked up to the the brunette in the black jumpsuit regarding her with a look that could have come straight off of Raven's—

 _Shit._

"RAVEN!" Clarke gasped, running forward to where her friend was slumped on the ground. The pool of blood from the nearest dead body had nearly seeped onto Raven's shoulder where she had collapsed, so Clarke immediately pulled her friend's body closer to her. She was surprised by how easily that action was accomplished; Raven certainly wasn't large by any means, but it was like she slid across the metal floor with almost no resistance.

"It's the Nightblood," said a calm voice behind where Clarke sat on the floor, holding Raven's head and upper body in her lap. "It's beginning to increase the efficiency of your musculature, by improving its oxygenation and the removal of cellular waste."

Clarke turned around to see the brunette—Becca?—kneeling down beside her, that same patient look on her face. "So what, you can read my mind now?"

"Not exactly," replied the woman, who appeared to be in her early to mid-thirties. "But close enough. To be more precise, I _am_ part of your mind. For now."

"And why is it I can see you?" asked Clarke. "I mean, Lexa never saw you, and I think she'd have told me that, but I guess I could be wrong."

"I wasn't aware I _could_ do this," the older woman said, using her hands to vaguely indicate her own body, "until I saw ALIE do it with those she had taken over. I spent the last two days studying her code and the modifications she had made in her subjects, monitoring her communications with them, slowly making adjustments in my interface with you, while being careful to not show my presence until it was time."

The brunette sighed, and the look of sorrow on her face was utterly human. "I can only guess at how many humans ALIE must have experimented on to discover how to communicate with them in a multisensory fashion and then control them."

Clarke stared at the woman, hesitant to speak aloud what she was thinking. Then the brunette's dark brown eyes slid to look directly into Clarke's gaze.

"Despite what I've learned from studying ALIE's interface, I'm not ever going to use my connections like that," BECA said, understanding Clarke's wariness. "I was designed by the Creator to work _with_ humans, Clarke, not independently of them. I am part of whomever I am bonded with, and all my programming has been hard-coded to ensure that I can never usurp control from my human side."

BECA sighed sadly. "ALIE was supposed to protect humanity too," she said wearily. "After her betrayal, the Creator made sure I could never act in such a horrific way."

A pained groan came from where Clarke was holding Raven in her lap, drawing Clarke's attention.

"Raven will not see or hear me," BECA said quickly. "I am blocking all perception of me by those with ALIE's implants for the time being."

"Probably a good idea," Clarke replied quietly, nodding to herself as she checked Raven's pulse again.

"I have maintained the neural rewiring ALIE performed on Raven's damaged spinal cord and nerve roots," BECA added. "She will retain her ability to walk."

Clarke looked up, surprise writ across her face. "You can do that?!" she asked, dumbfounded.

BECA nodded, a gentle smile on her face. "It had already been done. I am merely maintaining the repairs, along with the blocking of pain signals. At some point we will need to discuss what I have learned from ALIE's modifications to your people and my analysis of her code."

"It might be helpful to talk to my mom, too," Clarke said thoughtfully.

"Why the fuck would I talk to your mom, Clarke?" Raven mumbled, her head pounding and her equilibrium whirling sickeningly. "Other than this massive fucking whatever it is going on in my—"

Raven shot upward into a sitting position so quickly that Clarke was reflexively sliding backward away from her. "Where is that bitch?!" Raven snarled, looking around the room. "WHERE IS THAT FUCKING HIGH-HEEL-WEARING BITCH, GODDAMMIT?!"

"She's gone," Clarke said. "At least for now."

Raven narrowed her dark eyes as she fixed Clarke with an angry glare. "Did you kill her?" Raven asked, the pitch of her voice threateningly low.

"This manifestation of her here, yes," Clarke replied. "But she's a computer program, Raven, so she's still functioning wherever her main server is located. She's been erased from everyone here, and Wick changed the perimeter of Arkadia into a makeshift Faraday cage, so sh—"

"So she can't transmit herself back in or get any signals back from here," Raven said sharply. "I _know_ what a Faraday cage is, Clarke. I was _possessed_ , not stupid. Jesus fucking Christ."

 _Now_ Clarke allowed herself to smile and cry. "God, I'm so glad you're back, Rae," she said as she hugged her friend.

—O—

"Thank you for sharing your food with us," Elsa said politely as she finished the last of her water. Monroe and Harper had two carved wooden cups and a pitcher with a lid they had used to store water from their spring, but Elsa had made cups for her and Anna. It was still a strain to use her powers, but with Anna nearby the drain was more along the lines of fatigue than outright exhaustion, at least for objects as simple as cups.

Harper and Monroe had offered to share their dinner with the two queens, and the two Arendellans felt honor-bound to accept. The meal was simple, roasted venison, carrots and potatoes, but it represented a significant amount of the food Harper and Monroe were keeping stored in their makeshift "cellar," which was mostly just a small pit they had dug out and lined with mostly flat stones, covering it with a lid of tightly-bound branches weighted down with a heavy flagstone.

Now it was well past dark, but the company and conversation had both been so nice that neither couple was quite ready for dinner to end.

"You should build a creekhouse just right down below the pool you use," Anna said, pointing where the stream entered the forest. "You've got plenty of wood nearby, and combined with the shade of the forest and the temperature of the stream, you'll be able to keep food longer."

"Normally I'd make you an icebox," Elsa said, face slightly miffed, "but I expect my enchantments won't last for long here without Anna or me on hand to sustain their magic."

"We appreciate the thought, but we have to learn to do it for ourselves," Monroe said. She had been surprised about an hour ago, when she realized she felt a kinship of sorts with the redheaded Anna, not just over their shared hair color (which was rare enough) but also over their similarly practical, no-nonsense attitudes. And maybe the fact that they had both fallen in love with beautiful blondes.

"We appreciate the offer," offered Harper, standing as she took the metal skewers and utensils that had been brought to them several days ago by one of the pilgrims offering thanks to _Jusdonosir_. She placed them in the tightly-woven basket they used to carry things that needed to be washed down to the creek, then she straightened her back and stretched slowly, savoring the feeling of her back popping into place briefly before a flash of pain in her left hip made her gasp and doubled her over.

"What happened?" asked Anna.

"Are you alright?" Elsa asked at the same time, concern on both their faces.

"I'm fine," Harper said through her clenched teeth as she clutched at her now-aching left hip. "Just... a old injury."

Monroe had stood and was now supporting Harper's weight momentarily as the long-haired blonde held her awkward position until the wave of pain had mostly receded.

"Is there anything we can do to help?" Anna asked quietly.

"It just aches sometimes," Harper said, smiling at Monroe, who hadn't fully withdrawn her arms from steadying her lover. "It'll stop in a minute."

Elsa carefully stepped forward, extending her left arm toward Harper's left hip but stopping to meet Harper's gaze before actually touching her. "May I?" she asked pleasantly.

After a brief pause, Harper nodded. "Sure?" she said weakly, uncertain of what Elsa was planning.

Elsa smiled back, then lightly touched her hand to Harper's hip. She sent a pulse of cold through the aching crest of bone, quickly diminishing the dull pain and replacing it with a more tolerable numbness.

Elsa stood back up, withdrawing her hand. "I iced it for you. It won't last forever, but maybe it'll hold for a few hours of relief."

"And the cold won't give her frostbite?" asked Monroe, not wanting to seem rude but understandably concerned about her partner.

"No, I told it explicitly to not harm her in any way," replied Elsa.

"You... told it," Monroe said, disbelieving eyes so fixated on Elsa that she missed Harper rolling her own eyes. "Not to hurt her."

Elsa nodded.

"It feels much better, thank you," Harper said, raising her voice a bit and not bothering to hide the hint of exasperation at her lover's confusion. "Zoe, it's fine, baby, really." Harper extended her left arm, stepping closer so that she could curl her arm around Monroe's small waist. "The pain's pretty much gone now." She looked at Elsa. "Thank you," she said politely.

Elsa smiled back as Anna stepped against her, the redhead's freckled arms curling themselves around Elsa's torso as Anna snuggled in against her wife. "You're most welcome," Elsa replied pleasantly. "Thank you again for dinner."

"I'll provide the meal next time," Anna said, grinning. "I brought my bow and arrows with me."

"Yeah, I'm still learning," Monroe said, reflexively running her hand over her closely shorn red hair. "Having to practice every day that I can. That kid Dido's been a good teacher, though."

The quirky look on Harper's face made Monroe pause momentarily. "What?" she finally asked, unable to keep from smiling at how beautiful her girlfriend was.

"Kid?" the blonde asked playfully. "She's what, a year or two younger than we are?"

"Yeah, well, we've got our own place and everything," Monroe replied, waving her head in the direction of their tent and campsite.

"Ohhh," Harper said, a loving smile spreading across her face. She moved to put her arms around Monroe's neck, resting her arms on the petite redhead's strong shoulders. "I love it when you talk all domestic to me."

An intense blush quickly bloomed across Monroe's fair cheeks, making Harper and Anna laugh out loud. (Elsa was better at concealing amusement.)

"Next thing I know, you'll be asking me out," Harper teased, lightly kissing her lover's forehead.

"Think we've gone a bit past that," Monroe mumbled, trying not to smile at the affection Harper was lavishing on her.

"Oh, we have," Harper agreed happily, smiling as she looked into Monroe's green eyes. "And it—just like you—has been amazing."

Anna yawned and stretched, arms upward and splaying out to the side as she loudly groaned with the exertion. "I think we're going to head back to... Arkadia?" she asked, looking to Elsa and getting a polite nod in reply. "Yeah, Arkadia. Thank you again for dinner, and for the conversation."

"We're glad the two of you found each other," Elsa added, smiling as she gently reached out and lightly clasped first Monroe's, then Harper's hand. "See you in the morning?"

The two younger women nodded. "Yeah, Harp's working a morning shift doing close patrol tomorrow, and I'll be helping Abby and Jackson in Medical tomorrow."

"Wonderful," Elsa said pleasantly. "Then Anna and I will see you in the morning."

"Can you two find your way back?" Harper asked, genuinely unsure.

"We can," Elsa replied. It had been a fairly simple walk, and at this proximity Elsa could feel the horses they had left back at Arkadia.

"Do you need a light?" asked Monroe. "We have a flashlight if you need it for the walk back. We charge the batteries with the solar array back at the Ark."

The look of puzzlement on the face of the two Arendellans momentarily surprised the two young women, until they remembered the cultural divide.

"It's, uh..." Harper said, looking around. "A flashlight is like a lantern, but without a flame. Instead of burning oil or wood, it generates light through electricity that's stored in a battery."

"A lantern without a flame?" Anna asked, curious. " _That's_ different."

"Not entirely," Elsa said softly. When Anna turned to look at her, Elsa said, "Draw your sword, my heart, with the cold turned down."

"Ahhh," Anna said, smiling as she made the connection. "Yeah, good point." She bent over and picked up her belt, with her sword and shield both attached. She slowly slid the crystalline blade from its scabbard.

Instantly a soft white glow bathed the clearing around the small campsite in cool light.

"Jesus," Monroe swore softly, eyes wide at the sight. Harper was likewise mesmerized, leaning against her slightly smaller partner and unconsciously holding onto Monroe. Their full attention was transfixed on the glowing blade until the first wave of cold washed over them, causing Monroe to shiver briefly.

"Sorry," Anna said a bit hesitantly. "I'm dampening it as much as I can."

"It's beautiful," Harper said softly, still watching the blue-white light as she wrapped her arms around Monroe and shared her warmth with her lover; Monroe tended to get cold more easily than Harper, something which Harper would lightly tease her about when they were alone but never in the presence of others.

"Looks like you've got the flashlight covered after all," Monroe said, a quirky grin on her face as she looked up at the other redhead.

Anna grinned in reply; she liked Monroe's odd sense of humor after having an hour or two getting to know the reticent girl. "Yeah, we should be good on the walk back, but thank you for offering the flameless light."

"We hope we see you two again tomorrow," Elsa said, smiling as she took Anna's swordbelt from her wife's left hand. With a smoothness that revealed long practice, she opened the belt and encircled Anna's waist with it, reaching around the redhead and fastening the buckle before settling the belt into place at her wife's hips.

"Count on it," Harper said with a smile. "Zoe and I have really enjoyed talking to the two of you."

"We feel the same way," Anna said as she sheathed her sword, dimming the surrounding light back to the yellow-orange glow from the nearby fire. "You two are _so_ young, but you're already building a life together."

"You have to grow up fast on the ground," Harper replied calmly. "Otherwise you die."

"Is there anything we can do for you before we head back to Arkadia?" Elsa asked.

"I think we're good," Monroe said, leaning back into Harper's taller frame. "Thanks for asking."

"Of course," Elsa answered. "Then we'll see you tomorrow."

"Bye!" Anna added, waving briefly.

"Good night," said Monroe.

"See you tomorrow!" added Harper.

—O—

Just over two hours later, after the fire had been banked for the night and Harper and Monroe had retired to their tent and the large sleeping bag they shared, the two young women relaxed in each other's embrace, their naked bodies sharing heat as they both came down from the endorphin highs of making love.

"So," Monroe mumbled softly, drifting close to the edge of slumber as she luxuriated in Harper's gentle embrace. Her ears were ringing slightly from Harper screaming a bit too close to her ear earlier, but it was a sacrifice she was willing to make to feel Harper's shuddering, shrieking orgasm when the blonde girl came beneath her.

"Yeah?" Harper replied softly, her own throat a bit raw from screaming so much earlier. Zoe had made her climax three times over the last thirty minutes, and all the nerve endings just beneath the surface of her skin continued to tingle and buzz pleasantly in the afterglow.

"It's getting colder," Monroe said matter-of-factly.

Harper sighed. She knew what her girlfriend meant. "Yeah, it is."

They had only superficially talked about what they were going to do as autumn faded into winter. Truthfully, they were still struggling to grasp the reality of seasons, growing up as they did on the Ark and its unchanging environment. Since they had been on the ground, there hadn't been too much difference between spring, summer and now autumn beyond how long the daylight lasted, but Dido's concern for their safety living in their tent was growing each day as the nights began to grow noticeably cooler.

"Do you think we could maybe build a little structure over and around the tent?"

Harper shifted her body, turning so she could look up into Monroe's intense emerald eyes. "Maybe." She snuggled in more tightly against Monroe's bare chest. "We could ask the Trikru tomorrow if they could help up plan something out."

"You're still getting worshipers. Maybe they'd be willing to help."

Harper's eyes shifted upward to give Monroe a brief glare. "You know that creeps me out a bit when you use that word."

"I don't know," Monroe said, smirking as she kissed Harper's forehead. "Kinda hot fucking a goddess, if you ask me."

"God," groaned Harper, rolling her eyes.

"No, _goddess_."

"Go to sleep. Or this goddess might excommunicate you outside for the night."

Monroe grinned. "I don't think it works that way, your godliness."

Now Harper actually tilted her head back so she could look up and meet Monroe's gaze. "Wanna bet?" she asked seriously, smiling when Monroe quietly settled her head down on Harper's chest with a happy grin.

—O—

Monroe wasn't exactly sure what had woken her up. It was still thoroughly dark outside, and Harper was still soundly asleep in the redhead's arms. She didn't need to pee, Harper wasn't tossing or having a nightmare, and she felt fine for abruptly coming out of sleep at an odd time.

The sound of a grumbling outside their tent instantly propelled Monroe into full-blown wakefulness, though, and the noise of scratching and stone briefly scraping against stone grated against Monroe's ears as the small but formidable girl slid out from the side of the sleeping bag and unzipped the opaque door to their tent. She grabbed a flashlight as she scrambled outside.

"Zoe?" Harper mumbled, still partly asleep until the cold rush of air blew in through the tent's open door, sliding beneath the flap of the partially opened sleeping bag and chilling her nude body. "Zoe?!" Harper said louder, grabbing at a shirt as she saw her lover's bare ass disappear out of the tent's doorway.

Monroe swung the beam of light from the flashlight toward the rumbling and growling, which was coming from the stones where they stored their food. A large creature with dark brown fur was trying to shove its nose beneath the top stone, and it had succeeded in partially dislodging the cover stone. The stone was heavy enough that Harper and Monroe used a lever to lift and slide the stone, something they had learned to do after raccoons had removed a smaller capstone to pilfer their food stores several months ago.

"Shit," Monroe swore as the large bear turned toward the light playing across its dark snout, its eyes reflecting a brilliant yellow in the light's beam. Large teeth jutted outward from its lower jaw, rising alongside its snout, which appeared somewhat misshapen. Its dark muzzle was matted with dirt and earth from trying to dig beneath the heavy stone, and it rumbled unpleasantly as it regarded the biped facing it.

Monroe quickly stepped to the fire, grabbing the unburnt end of a longer stick and pulling it free of the dwindling fire. Just moments ago, the chill of the night air against her naked body had been so brisk as to make her shiver, but now she was shaking for an entirely different reason as the bear shifted its massive bulk to point in her direction, snorting once as it did so.

"Zoe, what the f—"

"Harper, stay back!" Monroe said loudly, not taking her eyes off the bear. She shifted the still-burning end of the moderately thick piece of wood toward the bear, brandishing it toward the creature. Bears were scared of fire, weren't they?

"Oh, fuck me," Harper swore to herself as she saw the bear, slightly taller at the shoulder than Monroe, even with it still on all fours. "Zoe, step back to me, baby. Slow."

"It's scared of the fire," Monroe said firmly, hoping and praying to any entity that might be listening that she was right. The way the makeshift torch shook in her hand wasn't helping her confidence much.

"Yeah, that's why you need to step back here, toward the fire."

"Harp, it's trying to get our fucking food!"

"Zoe, I don't want it to _kill you!"_ Harper's voice turned shrill on those last two words, and she immediately lunged back into the tent. It only took seconds to find what she was looking for, then she was crawling backwards on her hands and knees after grabbing the rifle she had taken back to their tent over a week ago.

It had been against Pike's orders for any firearms other than a pistol to leave Arkadia without explicit permission, but Marcus Kane and David Miller had both met Harper just outside Arkadia the night Charles Pike had implicitly threatened Monroe's life at the Council meeting. Neither of the two men had said a word as David had stoically handed Harper a rifle and an extra clip of ammunition; he and Marcus had both just given Harper a serious look that explained all that needed to be said. Likewise, she had been silent when she took the rifle from them, accepting the gift with a simple nod but with emotion shining through her eyes.

She just never thought she'd be using the rifle on a fucking _bear_.

Harper turned on the attached flashlight, lifting the weapon to her shoulder as she pointed it in the direction of the bear. She knew its fur and fat would stop a small-caliber bullet like the rifle, but she wasn't going to let a stupid thing like an asshole bear take away the woman she loved.

"Zoe, don't move to your left," Harper said as she aimed through the rifle's open sight, focusing on the bear's snout as she shifted into a steady pattern of breathing to help stabilize her aim.

"Harp, what are you doing?" Monroe replied, unable to tear her gaze away from the hulking creature less than ten feet away from her.

"DON'T MOVE TO YOUR LEFT," Harper repeated, firmly and loudly as she aimed just short of her lover's left shoulder, the tip of the sight bar kept steadily over the bear's mouth as she debated whether to aim for the mouth or the eye. "If you have to move, move to your right! And keep your left arm down!"

"You're scaring me, Harp," Monroe said, then she nearly laughed from the absurdity of her statement in the face of staring down a hungry bear.

The bear pawed a step toward Monroe, who waved the flaming stick toward it, dutifully keeping her left arm down. In response the irritated bear opened its maw, raised its muzzle and growled fiercely at the small biped trying to drive it away from the food it continued to smell.

The crack of a rifle shot split the night; even with the noise muffled by the built-in suppressor, the sound made Monroe jump with fright, leaping to her right as the bear made a noise between choking and groaning. It teetered uneasily for long seconds before it fell awkwardly to its left with a heavy crash.

Harper ran several steps forward, stopping just a few feet away as she aimed the rifle at the bear's nearest eye; she fired one shot into the eye, then another shot into the same place a few seconds later.

There was a tired sigh as the bear's body slowly went limp, settling into the stillness of death. Its back legs kicked awkwardly a few times, about a second apart, until they finally stopped after a half-dozen throes.

"Holy fuck, Harp," Monroe said breathlessly. "You just killed a bear."

Harper limply held the rifle at her side, her eyes burning at the massive creature that lay dead before them. "Yeah," the blonde said numbly, shivering from the combination of the cool night air and the realization of how the span of just a few seconds going differently could have left her heartbroken and alone.

She whirled to her partner, fury still sparking in her eyes. "That was fucking _stupid_ , Zoe!" she said sharply, causing the nude redhead to wince in surprise.

"What?" Monroe replied, the biting of the cold over her exposed body inconsequential when compared to the shock she felt at Harper's harsh words.

"You were trying to run off a _bear_ with a fucking _stick_!" Harper said, waving in the direction of the dead beast. "It could have KILLED YOU!"

Monroe was so surprised that she couldn't speak for several seconds. Over that time, all she could do was examine Harper's beautiful (if furious) face, and those careful seconds of analysis were all it took to defuse the reflexive anger that had started building in Monroe's chest.

Harper was terrified.

Only the blonde's anger was keeping her standing, judging from the way her bare legs were shaking and her whole body was trembling. She was standing out in the cold in just a long shirt, the goosebumps on her legs and arms were plainly visible and _fuck, it was cold out here._

"Harp, can we put some clothes on, at least? It's damn cold."

Zoe Monroe was not prepared for an emotional dam to burst behind Harper's brown eyes. The blonde lightly dropped the rifle on the ground as tears began to well in her eyes, then she rushed across the distance between the two of them and threw her arms around Monroe, hugging her with a fierce protectiveness.

"I can't lose you, baby," Harper whispered loudly as she buried her face against Monroe's short red hair. "I can't fucking lose you, not ever!"

"Hey, you haven't lost me, okay?" Monroe replied, soaking up the warmth of Harper's body and returning the embrace tightly. "I'm still right here. A stupid bear isn't going to kill me."

"But it could have. _I_ could have killed you, if you'd moved to the left!"

"But you told me not to, and I didn't, right?" Monroe replied, looking up into Harper's glistening eyes. "How did you kill that thing?"

"I shot it in its mouth," Harper said, her hands and feet tingling from some combination of cold and terror. "When it opened up and roared at you. Gave me a good shot at the roof of its mouth and the back of its throat."

"Holy fuck," Monroe swore, amazed at her girlfriend's accuracy. "I knew you were a good shot, but Jesus."

"It was less than twenty feet away," Harper argued weakly. "And it was threatening you. I'd have stuck the barrel in its fucking mouth and shot it _that_ way if I'd had to."

The distant sound of crunching leaves at the edge of the nearby woods claimed their attention, with the noise giving way as the person running left the treeline and entered the grassy plain.

"Sounds like we're about to have company," Monroe said. "I really should put some clothes on. And so should you."

"I want to make sure it's dead," Harper said, looking at the bear's carcass.

"Well, considering it hasn't been breathing or tried to move for a few minutes, I think we're good, but you do you, Harp," Monroe said with a warm smile.

"Get some clothes on so I don't have to chase off anybody lusting after you, sexy," Harper said, finally smiling as she gave her lover a light push toward their tent. "I'll put on some pants once you're back out."

No sooner had Monroe closed the flap of the tent than Harper heard a familiar voice call out, " _Jusdonosir_! Mon-Roe!"

The lithe form of the teenaged Dido crested the edge of the hill into the glow of the low firelight, her bow already in her hand with an arrow nocked on the string.

"We're alright, Dido," Harper said, bringing the girl to a quick stop as she took in Harper's barely-clothed body. Harper closed her eyes briefly as she felt her body flush; she was likely putting on a show giving the cool temperature and her only wearing a light shirt that didn't quite reach mid-thigh.

"Monroe's getting dressed. Once she's back out here, then I'll put on more clothes. We were woken up by a bear trying to get into our food stores."

Dido paled. "Did it run from the noise of your Skai weapon?" she asked quickly.

"No, I killed it," Harper said, gesturing behind her. "Shot it through its mouth, then put two bullets into its brain through its eye."

Dido stared at her, mouth partly open as she stood perfectly still.

The zipping of the tent door heralded Monroe coming back out, now wearing a shirt, pants, socks and boots, although the laces of the boots were still untied. "Hey, kid," Monroe said to Dido pleasantly. "Thought I heard your voice."

When there was no reply, Monroe moved to stand in front of the Trikru girl. "Kid?" she asked. "Dido?"

"I think I broke her when I told her I killed the bear," Harper explained.

"I saw some of the _Maun-de_ try to kill a _kripa_ once, using their forbidden weapons," Dido finally said, her voice oddly distant. "They shot it a dozen times, and it still killed one, maybe two of them before it ran off."

Harper nodded. "Yeah, their fur and fat are so thick it's hard for the bullets to go deep enough to seriously hurt them."

"Much the same for arrows," replied the Grounder girl, her head finally turning to look at Harper again. "The risk of trying kill one outweighs the benefit in most cases."

A brisk shiver reminded Harper that all she was wearing was a t-shirt. "I need to put on some clothes while we decide what to do with this thing," she said. She knelt to pick her rifle back up; she'd take the bullet out of the chamber once she was back inside their tent, where there would be less risk of dropping the round and losing it in the dark.

"We'll be here," Monroe said, stopping Harper long enough to kiss her on the lips. "Thank you for saving my life," she said, seriously.

The brown eyes Zoe loved passionately danced with delight as Harper smiled, her cheeks turning red from the low temperature. And maybe from a bit of blushing. "I will _always_ save your life, Zoe Monroe," she whispered. "Because I love you. Even if you do pick fights with bears."

Monroe swallowed. "I love you, too," she replied, blinking her eyes to keep from crying. "Go get some clothes on. Save the naked for our sleeping bag."

"Yes, Ma'am," Harper replied with a confident smirk. She knelt and crawled back into the tent, trying to not put any more of herself on display than was necessary with the motion.

Monroe flicked the switch on their larger flashlight, conjuring the beam of light back into existence. "You, uh, want to see the bear?" she asked Dido.

—O—

"Oh my God, Clarke, what has she done to you?" Abby asked breathlessly as she analyzed the monitor displaying the scan of Clarke's brain and cervical spine—including the rectangular metal object and the thin tendrils connecting it to Clarke's occipital brain and brainstem.

"She saved my life, _Mom_ ," Clarke said icily, her voice sounding tinny through the ringing in her ears. Her hearing was improving, but it still wasn't back to where it should be.

It was just the two of them in the medical wing's operating room; Clarke had insisted on her mother being the only one in the room when she realized that Abby wasn't going to take no for an answer regarding examining Clarke, not after the deaths back in the residential section. Raven was being tended to by Jackson in the main patient room, which had been emptied since Abby had discharged Elsa and Anna; Lincoln, Octavia and two guards were also present tending to (and monitoring) the surviving Arkadians who had attacked Clarke. None of them showed any signs of aggression or hostility, although their memories of what had happened in that locked room seemed to be fuzzy at best.

Clarke had been hard-pressed to get Anna and Elsa to leave her alone after the assault Jaha had orchestrated. It was only a promise of Clarke coming out and explaining things to them as soon as she was cleared by her mother that succeeded in getting the blonde and redhead to wait just outside the medical section.

But that required getting through her mother and her simmering dislike for Lexa without committing matricide.

"How is this any different than what Thelonius was doing to those people?" Abby hissed at Clarke. "She put an _implant_ in your _brain_ , Clarke!"

"After she took it out of _her own head_ , Mother!" Clarke snapped back. "She gave me the single most sacred thing the Grounders have! Because she wanted to PROTECT ME!" Clarke took a moment to take a deep breath before speaking again. "And I am _ridiculously_ grateful to her for doing what she did, because she absolutely saved my life by doing so."

"And your blood!" Abby added, throwing her hands up in the air. "Do you know what the long-term side effects of her altering your red and white blood cells, your bone marrow, your _DNA_ , will be?!"

"Yeah!" Clarke said loudly. "I get to HAVE a 'long-term'!"

Clarke sighed loudly, running her left hand through her hair. She looked at Abby, who was staring back at her with an expression of fury mixed with fear. _This shit has to stop_ , Clarke thought to herself.

"Look, Mom," Clarke began, keeping her voice deliberately calm. "I know you hate Lexa."

"Clarke—"

Clarke held up her left hand to stop her mother. "I know. You've made it obvious. No point in arguing. But... I love her. And whether you believe it or not, _she_ loves _me_."

Abby had to bite her tongue to stay silent, when there was so much she wanted to say. But she kept her mouth closed.

"When I was so lost..." Clarke said, fighting back tears. "When I was so lost that I wanted to die, she was looking out for me. She had sent people to find me, and they brought me to her, so that she could protect me. Just like I had lost part of my soul when I killed those people in Mount Weather, she had lost part of hers when she chose to save her people instead of honor her alliance with me."

"You could have died because she abandoned you," Abby said, refraining from yelling.

"Yeah," Clarke agreed, nodding as tears began to drip from her eyes. "I could have. And it would have been her fault, if she had lost the woman she had fallen in love with."

There was a deep pause for several seconds. "Does she even know how to love, Clarke?" asked Abby, and it seemed to Clarke that this question was more serious than it was angry in tone.

Clarke blinked a few times, her wet eyelashes heavy. "She does," she answered softly. "So, so much. But she lost her first love years ago, when Nia, the leader of the Azgeda, had her—her name was Costia—kidnapped. She tortured her to death, slowly, then she sent her head back to Lexa as a warning, or maybe as a sick gift. Who knows, because Nia's pretty much evil."

"Dear God," Abby swore softly.

"Yeah, exactly," Clarke said. "So Lexa just... shut her heart off after that. Until me."

Clarke looked up, meeting her mother's curious stare with determination. "She's already sworn to me that she'll never betray me again. And I'll never betray her."

"And what happens the next time there's a conflict between her people and your people?"

Clarke laughed quietly, smiling at the ridiculousness of that question that her mother didn't realize. "Because, Mom, at this point there is no more 'Lexa's people' and 'my people.' There's only _our people_. All of the thirteen clans are now my people, including Skaikru. I may still be the leader here, but I'm the leader everywhere else, too, with the exception of Lexa."

Clarke walked over to her dark jacket, picking it up and handing it to her mother. She lifted the pauldron sporting a blue sash with silver stars sewn onto the ends, presenting it to Abby as the older woman held the weathered jacket. "This is my rank, Mom. They call me _Wanheda_ , the Commander of Death, because I'm capable of both inflicting it and preventing it in ways they've never seen. I'm second in command to Lexa herself."

Clarke sighed and turned away. "And when we lead the army of the Thirteen Clans into war against Nia, I'll be helping lead the battle."

—O—

Outside the large doors to Medical, Anna snored lightly as she leaned against Elsa's chest. An icy wolf stood guard over them as Elsa herself fought to keep from drifting off, drained from the effort of creating it even with Anna holding her. It was well into the night, but neither of them felt entirely comfortable leaving Clarke unguarded after the attack on her, committed by her own people.

Clarke had been adamant that those people had been under the mental control of another and that they had been freed from that control, but both Elsa and Anna remained skeptical. That was why Elsa had also created a small ice butterfly and stationed it in the large room where the other patients were being cared for. If anything unusual happened, it would immediately let her know.

She sighed and allowed herself a few moments to miss their children, their home and the others they cared for back in Arendelle. Even though the castle staff wasn't related to them, they had always been part of Elsa's and Anna's extended family, and Elsa found herself missing many of them; she could feel those same feelings in Anna's heart as well.

She laughed softly to herself as she considered what magic Rose and Maleficent might be teaching Erin and Elin while she and Anna completed this adventure. Hopefully the castle staff wouldn't be too traumatized by them and their little sister by the time their Queens returned.

Their little girls were growing up, Elsa thought wistfully. How fortunate they were, that they didn't have to live in the world that Clarke and Lexa occupied, where just surviving each day was a struggle in itself. Arendelle certainly wasn't the most temperate country, and danger was still quite real there, but people in their homeland tended to be kind and compassionate in general, and that was a treasure that was too often taken for granted.

But not all of this new world was terrible. Some of the things they had built were incredible, both massive projects like this Ark and the devices within it as well as the smaller objects, like the "radios" they could use to communicate with each other instantly over vast distances. Medicines to treat infections and diseases, a device to look beneath the skin and see damaged organs and broken bones with ways to fix them, even a method to harness sunlight itself and direct it toward other purposes.

And hope and love continued to flourish in this harsh world, despite all the travails and obstacles set against its inhabitants. Monroe and Harper—Elsa never did ask if those were their first names, their last names or their only names, which she would have to rectify later—had survived the loss of their parents, the loss of their childhood home, multiple near-death experiences, and yet they managed to find love and carve out a life and a tiny home together. They refused to break before the trials of their world and instead chose to face each day with happiness and optimism. Polis, Arkadia, the Council of Clans all were examples of working together to build a better, safer civilization in an unforgiving world, rebuilding a world from the ashes of utter destruction.

Elsa silently nodded to herself. It would be nice if Erin and Elin could meet Monroe and Harper one day. Seeing such hardiness and perseverance in young women close to their own age (and who weren't their parents) would be good for the young teenagers. Perhaps the young couple might consider a brief vacation in Arendelle once all this business with the sorcerer and this Nia woman had been dispatched.

The feel of Anna's fingers gently squeezing Elsa's left breast disrupted the blonde's train of thought. She looked down to see her wife's face and realized that Anna was still asleep, or at least doing a very good of faking it.

Elsa smiled, letting her magic flow into Anna and then back out again as she created a shiny white blanket made entirely of woven snow, despite the fatigue worsening from the effort. She situated the blanket over the two of them from the chest down, just in case Anna's hands decided to roam some more. They weren't going anywhere, their icy wolf was standing watch and there was nothing wrong with letting themselves get more comfortable while they carried out their vigil for their friend.

Elsa glanced over at the frosted wolf. "Good boy," she said pleasantly, getting a soft whine of acknowledgment in reply, then she allowed herself to drift off to sleep.

—O—

Clarke watched as the color drained from Abby's face.

"W—" Abby began, haltingly. " _War_ , Clarke?" she managed to squeak out.

"Absolutely," replied Clarke. "Nia has magic of her own now, plus a sorcerer who's killed hundreds of people back in Anna's and Elsa's world. We have to stop them before they get any more powerful. Lexa's already started the preparations."

Abby tried to calm her racing heart. She had just gotten Clarke back, in a way, then she nearly lost her to Thelonious Jaha just hours ago, and now... "WAR?" she repeated. "That's a bit more than you let on at the Council meeting yesterday."

Clarke nodded. "I had to calm things down here first, and that included figuring out what Jaha was up to. Him tipping his hand helped tremendously. As did me killing him. Plus—"

"How can you be so casual about that, Clarke?" Abby asked, the pitch of her voice rising. "He attacked you and was trying to turn you into one of his slaves!"

"But he didn't," Clarke replied, raising her left index finger to point upward. "He underestimated me, and he paid for that with his asshole life. And I'm 'casual' about that, as you put it, Mom, because _I'm alive_ and _he's not_."

The two strong-willed women held each other's gaze for several seconds, not hostile enough to truly be called a glare but still charged with emotion.

"So what do you plan to do with those Jaha's already rigged with the implants?" Abby asked, eager to change the subject.

Without replying verbally, Clarke turned to look just over Abby's shoulder, as if studying the monitor in that line of her vision but actually looking at the manifestation of BECA standing behind Abby.

"I plan to offer each person a choice," BECA said to Clarke. "To each of them, I will explain what Thelonious Jaha and ALIE had done to them. I will maintain any repairs that were made to damaged nerves or spinal fibers, such as your friend Raven Reyes, for as long as their bodies and the implants will allow me to do so. And then I will apologize for what ALIE had done to them."

Clarke considered that for a moment. _Will you continue to communicate with them?_ She thought.

"I will not be able to indefinitely," BECA replied solemnly. "I will be able to communicate more directly with the bearer of the Flame, now that I have learned how to do so from ALIE, but it is only through the portable server and communication nexus in the device Thelonious Jaha brought back from ALIE that allows me to manifest in the consciousness of others."

BECA paused and looked directly into Clarke's eyes. "That technology _must_ be controlled, Clarke, both the nanites and the device capable of controlling them. Yes, it has the ability to repair nerve damage and alter brain neurochemistry. But it has just as much potential for abuse as it does for repair, as you and your people have witnessed."

Clarke took a deep breath. "I need to sit down and talk to Lexa before we make a decision on this issue," she said, both to BECA and to her mother. Then she shifted her stance to look directly at her mother. "But those people who have had physical damage repaired should be allowed to keep those repairs. Those people who have used Jaha's implants to escape into that dumbass 'City of Light,' though..."

"Is there a way to mitigate the suppression of pain and anxiety?" asked Abby.

Clarke blinked. "What?"

"A way to maybe turn it down, so to speak," Abby clarified. "Like the difference between a modest dose of an analgesic and high dose of a narcotic. One eases the pain to allow someone to keep working and functioning, where the other numbs to the point of distraction or debilitation."

Clarke nodded. "So the people who turned to Jaha to relieve their pain or suffering could keep some degree of relief while not being numbed to the point of not caring whether they live or die, or being drugged-out slaves."

Abby nodded, even chancing a smile. "Exactly," she said. "Imagine the potential for treating chronic pain, or psychiatric disorders! I've treated a few patients for major depression and bipolar disorder over twenty years, and their neurotransmitter levels have _never_ been as well-regulated as they have been with Thelonious's implants."

Clarke subtly looked over at BECA, who nodded and smiled.

"It could easily be done," the AI projection said. "Before I disable the nanite controller, I will work with each person affected to find an acceptable level of symptom relief that still preserves their cognitive function and personality."

"I'll take to Raven and Kyle," Clarke said to her mother. "We should be able to work something out once we figure out exactly how the system in that backpack of his functions. But we need to keep it secure, in a shielded room. It's throwing off low-level radiation, plus I don't want anybody trying to access it with wireless signals."

Clarke considered what they had available, talking out loud to BECA as much as her mother. "Maybe Raven and Wick can make a shielded section inside the brig or some other secure section of the ship. Require two different people to gain access to it or something like that."

Abby nodded. "That sounds reasonable," she said calmly. She glanced up at the list of vitals displayed on one of the wall monitors. "I need to go check on the others. I'm sure Raven is berating Jackson for being confined to the patient ward. Both their heart rates are markedly elevated."

Clarke laughed once. "Yeah, probably. Tell her I'll be in there to check on her in just a minute. Maybe that'll keep her from getting too mad."

Abby reached over and rested her right hand on Clarke's left, squeezing it once in a maternal gesture that didn't seem as awkward as it had a year ago. She smiled at the young woman her daughter had become, pride mixed with regret, then she turned and went through the doors into the patient ward.

Clarke stared at the now-closed doors for long moments before she blinked the wetness away from her eyes and turned to regard BECA again.

"Please don't take this the wrong way," Clarke began, "because I'm stupidly grateful that you saved my mind and my life earlier, but I'll be really happy when you can talk to Lexa instead of me."

The projection smiled in a way that was eerily human, shifting its nonexistent weight on its virtual feet before replying. "Though you were never prepared to carry the Flame, Clarke Griffin, I am honored to have met your consciousness," the brunette said. "For in the short period of time I have shared your mind, you have taught me much. Between you and your houmon, my hope for humanity is stronger than it has been for over a century. It will be _my_ honor to carry your consciousness as part of me, to share with future Hedas."

Clarke blinked a few times. "I'm sorr— _What?"_

BECA looked at Clarke, then her curious expression softened. "My apologies, Wanheda," she said calmly. "It's been so long since I was part of someone who wasn't prepared to receive the Flame. In fact, I—or rather, my creator, was the last such host."

BECA walked over to Clarke, and it took all of Clarke's congition to remind herself that the woman wasn't physically present in the room with her, particularly when the brunette carefully reached up and patted Clarke's right shoulder.

"I carry part of all Hedas with me. That includes your houmon, Lexa kom Trikru. Their memories, their experiences, their thinking all add to my neural pathways, making me more than I was before. It is this knowledge that I can share with Heda... and now with Wanheda, who has shown me a better way to communicate with my future bearers. I do not want to overwhelm you with all those thoughts and memories, as your mind has not had time to prepare for it. But always know that part of you and part of Lexa will live forever with me."

Without warning, Clarke's eyes immediately began to burn and water.

BECA smiled tenderly. "No matter what the future brings, the two of you will remain together," she continued, "as part of my pathways. Those pieces of yourselves, those parts of your minds and souls, will be forever united in the Commander's Flame, helping to guide Hedas and your people for generations to come."

With a blur of motion, Clarke "hugged" the AI's projection. On some level, Clarke knew that she wasn't embracing a real person. She really did. But as she stood there, by herself and not by herself at the same time, she felt a tangible presence that offered her a piece of the future and the taste of hope. And she clung to it with all she had.

—O—

 **Author's Afterword:** Trying to get back into a more typical update schedule. I'm sorry again about it taking so long for this chapter to be finished and posted! We're getting there, though. I'm thinking it's going to take about twenty chapters total to complete the story at this point, maybe a bit more if I through in an epilogue or two. We'll see how it works out.

Next chapter brings Clarke and Lexa back together, plus the final fate of Charles Pike. And then there's the not-insignificant matter of impending war to deal with... Plus, what _have_ Nia and Hans been up to lately?

Again, I'm thinking seven more chapters or so. We'll see if the story agrees. Next update hopefully in the next few weeks, because I feel really bad about this chapter taking so long to finish and post.

Thanks for reading!


	14. Chapter 14: Time Is the Perfect Predator

**Author's Note:** Happy Holidays and Merry Everything! Here's another chapter as we start the end run. I'm guessing another four chapters at this point to wrap things up, but that's always subject to change.

Cover Art for the story is from the LexaRecovery tumblr. Stay strong together.

 _I do not own the television show "The 100" or make any claims upon it or its characters. Similarly, I do not own Frozen, its characters or any Disney characters or property. All these characters are used under the concept of Fair Use, and I make no profit or income from using any of them._

 **Our Fight Is Not Over**

by Jo K.

Chapter 14: Time Is the Perfect Predator

 _And the company you keep_

 _Well, they plan your crucifixion as we speak_

 _So baby, 'til life and the dream collide_

 _There's gonna be a mystery underneath those neon lights_

 _If you can't decipher just who's on your side_

 _You'll not escape the rising of the tide_

-The Killers, "The Rising Tide"

—O—

—O—

"I think we've reached an agreement, then," Marcus Kane spoke before the entire Council of Arkadia, minus Charles Pike, who remained in custody in the brig.

"I understand that this spreads the guards thin, but it's necessary, I promise you," replied Clarke Griffin, looking around to meet the eyes of all the Council members, even Hannah Green. Monty's mother had her hands bound in front of her, but she was still under constant scrutiny not only by Lincoln, who remained just to the side of Pike's former conspirator, but by Elsa and Anna, who flanked Clarke on either side.

The stern look in their eyes made it quite clear that no one was going to make an attempt of Clarke's life without serious and probably fatal consequences.

"I had hoped for more than twenty guards to join the battle against Nia, but I understand that's still over a third of all the guards," Clarke said. She turned to fix Hannah with a glare. "And, of course, we've had a clear demonstration of what a handful of people with assault rifles can do against a much larger force of Grounders. Isn't that right, Hannah?"

"You're being ridiculous, Clarke," Hannah said, her voice controlled but still with hostility in her tone. She looked around the room at the other Council members. "I cannot _believe_ you're just handing us over those barbarians to be executed!" she snarled out, finally raising her voice.

"The only one who is going to be executed is Pike," replied Clarke, her patience wearing then. "Lexa and I will work out some other punishment for the rest of you, but all of you will keep your life, as long as you don't force her hand."

Clarke looked over at Harper, who still had the remnants of tears in her eyes from Clarke's declaration several minutes ago that all of those who had participated in the massacre of the three hundred Trikru sent to protect Arkadia would be accompanying her back to Polis.

Because Monroe was included in that group. Even with Clarke's promise that Monroe would live, Harper couldn't help but anticipate the worst possible outcome, because more often than not, that was exactly what you got on the ground.

Clarke looked around the room once again. "Thank you," she said, emphasizing the words carefully. "I mean it. THANK. YOU." She paused, then continued. "Because of all of you working with Lexa and me, we've reached a landmark agreement between Arkadia and the rest of the Clans. This agreement—somebody better with words than me needs to come up with a cool name for it—shows that Arkadia _can_ work with the other clans, even under difficult circumstances, to establish and follow treaties which benefit all parties involved."

Clarke smiled, looking first at Kane, then at her mother. "I'm ending the blockade around Arkadia as of now. All the Trikru that were maintaining the blockade will be pulled back and converted into a perimeter of guards, giving Arkadia extra protection without being so close as to feel threatening. I'd encourage adding a few of Arkadia's guards or even some volunteers to a few of those units, so that you and the Trikru can get to know each other better.

"We really do have a lot to teach other. They have a century of experience in surviving on the ground. We have knowledge that's been lost to them for the same amount of time. It's going to be slow going, but we have all the time in the world to learn to be better neighbors."

"I do have one request to make, Clarke," said Kane, lifting his hand briefly to get her attention.

Clarke turned to look at him. "What's that, Marcus?"

Kane smiled pleasantly. "I'd like to accompany the Arkadian forces to Polis."

He stood up, then turned to face Abby, a few seats away from him around the table. "Abby is the current Vice Chancellor, and she's more than capable of running things while I'm away." Seeing hesitation on Clarke's face, he said, "I do bear the brand of the Coalition of Clans, Clarke. And symbolism is important in Grounder culture, correct?"

Surprised, Clarke nodded. "Yeah, it is."

He dipped his head briefly at her acknowledgment. "I also think Arkadia will be more respected if its Chancellor is personally present for what is to come, rather than staying at home protected by a ring of guards." He looked over at Hannah. "And besides, it was Arkadians who carried out the slaughter of those Trikru sent to protect us. Their Chancellor should be present to witness and accept the Commander's judgment on Charles and those who participated in that horrific event."

Clarke smiled softly. "You're good at this, Marcus," she said pleasantly.

"I try to pay attention, and to learn from my mistakes," he replied with a matching friendly smile. "And thank you."

David Miller's hand quietly went up.

"Yes, Mr. Miller?" Clarke asked reflexively before shaking her head and smiling self-deprecatingly. "Sorry. Yes, David?"

He looked a bit hesitant before he spoke. "Can you explain a bit more about this... magic?" he asked. "I mean, it's hard to believe." He looked at the blonde seated beside Clarke, then at the redhead on Clarke's left. "I apologize if my skepticism offends you, Your Majesties, but it's hard to believe."

Elsa smiled patiently. "Clarke was much the same way when we first met," she said calmly. "For Anna and myself, magic is part of who we are. I was born with it, and her connection to it came through our love for each other. As such, it's been part of our lives for decades."

Anna slowly stood, pushing her seat back as she did so. "It gets easier to accept the more you see it and are around it," the cheerful redhead said lightly as she took a few steps away from the table and those seated around it. She held out her left hand, palm open and upturned.

With a quiet, slow scrape from the peg on the wall where her swordbelt was hanging, the glittering white blade slid itself free of its scabbard and floated toward Anna, finally stopping as her fingers curled around its handle. The temperature in the room dropped immediately, but not dangerously so; still, it was clearly enough for everyone to feel the restrained bite of the cold emanating from the exposed blade, softly glowing a blue-white that was visible even in the well-lit room.

There was an uneasy murmuring that sussurated through the large room, as all eyes were focused on the glowing sword and the woman holding it.

"Maybe superconducting magnets?" said one of the Council members, who had been from the new-destroyed Mecha station, trying to think of a scientific explanation for the weapon's behavior.

"Is anything metal being pulled toward her?" Clarke countered calmly. Considering the chairs and table itself were metal, along with items worn or carried by most of those in the room, the point was well-noted.

In reply, Anna smiled and released her grip on the sword, which held its position hovering over the table, although its glow dimmed considerably once it was no longer in contact with its master. She confidently folded her arms across her chest as the sword continued to float silently before her.

Elsa stood, easing her chair back slightly. She saw Anna glance in her direction, wordlessly offering to take Elsa's hand to reduce the strain of using her powers; Elsa gave her a subtle glance politely declining the offer, not wanting to reveal any more than necessary about her powers. She lifted her arms before her as frost and light sparkled around her hands and forearms.

A swirling ribbon of snow and ice streamed forth, flowing like a river around the room, weaving its way around all those present. A curious few reached out and touched the shimmering moisture, some grinning and a few gasping at the cold sensation transmitted by the snow and frost when they touched the streams of magic. Elsa let the magic circulate around the room for several seconds before she directed it inward, coalescing at the center of the table and forming into a small replica of their Ice Palace on the North Mountain back in Arendelle.

"Magic is real," Elsa said, feeling cool dots of icy sweat form on her forehead and upper back from the exertion of creating and channeling magic for a prolonged period of time in this magic-poor world. "And Nia not only has powers of her own now, but she also has the assistance of a dark sorcerer from our world, a necromancer who has shown not only the ability and willingness to kill brutally and indiscriminately, but the ability to conduct ritual workings of magic capable of conjuring fell beasts the size of dragons and tearing a gate between worlds."

"However," Anna said, raising a hand as a gesture of conversation; the sword floating before her bobbed briefly before it realized she wasn't addressing it. "We're pretty sure his magic is weakened here, like Elsa's is. He returned to our world to carry out his big rituals."

"He sacrificed hundreds of innocent Arendellans," Elsa added, "to power his dark works. Men, women, girls, boys. He brutally and slowly killed them all, one at a time, bloody sacrifices to enhance his power."

"Dear God," a soft voice whispered from somewhere, barely audible in the large room.

"Elsa and I will deal with him," Anna said firmly. "We're the only ones here experienced with magic, both using it and fighting it." _Whomever he is_ , she thought to herself. _In fact, we're not entirely sure it IS a man, just the size and stride of those footprints suggesting it was._ _Well, at least his—or her—magic should give him or her away once the fighting starts._

Left unsaid was anything about the wicked tome the sorcerer carried. Anna and Elsa had already discussed that, and they had decided to not mention anything about it until the strategy planning that would be carried out once all of Lexa's generals were together. There was nothing positive that would come of mentioning the existence of a dark artifact which could grant power at the cost of one's soul to a room full of people fighting for their lives. Only those who stood a legitimate chance of encountering the Vile Codex needed to know of its danger or its power.

"Can magic stop a rifle bullet?" asked Monty Green.

Clarke and Elsa looked at each other and shared a quick grin before Clarke turned to look at her friend. "It can," she replied to Monty. "We tested a few shots back in Arendelle. The bullet shattered the first and second targets Elsa made, but the next one she made strong enough to stop the bullet after just a few millimeters of penetration. And it didn't even scratch Anna's shield."

"That _was_ a pistol, though," Monty replied. "Could be worth a shot."

"Please tell me you didn't mean to make that pun," Clarke said as more than a few people in the room snickered or groaned. Monty only grinned slyly. "We can't count on bullets affecting this sorcerer, but it's certainly worth considering putting a sniper on him or her once identified."

"David Miller and Harper are our best shots," said one of the guards, a woman in her thirties with dark brown hair that was beginning to streak with gray. She was from Power Station, Clarke thought, remembering the woman working on a few projects with her father before—

Well. Before.

"Monroe's a fine shot, too," David Miller added.

"I'm not going to speak for her," Harper said, her voice soft but distinct in the silence that fell after she began speaking. "But I'm betting she's staying out of the fighting. It'll be her decision, though. I'll discuss it with her tonight... on the way to Polis."

Harper hadn't said a word to anyone in Arkadia about the incident with the bear the night before. Shortly after Monroe showed the animal to Dido, the girl had left, promising to be back at sunrise. She kept her word, returning with a half-dozen Trikru and a horse-drawn wagon while the pink still shot through the gray morning sky.

Harper and Monroe had watched for a bit as the Trikru worked, swiftly field-dressing the massive creature, depositing its innards into a large ceramic pot, then loading it onto a wagon to be taken back to the nearby village to be skinned, butchered and harvested for bone, sinew and anything else that could be salvaged from its carcass. The Trikru had thanked Harper and Monroe repeatedly, showing even more awe toward the blonde than usual.

Harper wasn't sure why she hadn't said anything to anyone in Arkadia about it. She and Monroe hadn't exactly talked about keeping it a secret, and for all she knew Zoe was talking to Abby or Jackson all about their exciting night.

But it just felt like something that didn't belong to Arkadia.

Or maybe, Harper carefully considered, it wasn't exactly the _event_ that felt like it didn't belong to Arkadia.

Maybe it was something entirely different that didn't feel like it belonged here anymore. Maybe it was two somethings.

—O—

It was an unusual procession that made for Polis, to say the least.

Leading the way was Clarke, on the sorrel horse she had ridden on her trip to Arkadia a few days earlier. Elsa and Anna kept pace with her, their glittering icy mounts sparkling in the sunlight. No less than a dozen Trikru accompanied them, along with twenty Arkadians armed with rifles and pistols, Harper and Monroe, who shared a horse with Monroe directing the chocolate brown mare and Harper happily keeping her arms around the redhead's waist and looking over her lover's shoulder, and Marcus Kane, who rode toward the back of the convoy with Indra. The taciturn woman had finally stopped pretending the Skaikru man didn't exist, and she even offered him a few terse comments and replies in his attempt to converse with her and learn more about the Trikru.

A half dozen Trikru scouts had ridden ahead, both to watch for trouble and to find a place to camp before nightfall. Among them were Octavia and Lincoln, both eager to explore once again now that they had been reunited.

In the middle of the convoy rode two wagons, each pulled by two horses. The first wagon, covered with a canvas stretched over a simple framework, contained Charles Pike himself, both his legs and his left arm tied to the boards of the wagon with carbon fiber cables. His withered right hand was bandaged and covered, as it was beginning to have pieces crack and slough off. Clarke knew it was quickly becoming gangrenous, and she wanted to make sure that he arrived at Polis alive and healthy enough to face the judgment he deserved. No less than three Trikru rode with Pike, along with two Arkadian guards with pistols, one of whom was Nathan Miller.

In the second wagon, this one larger and uncovered, were Hannah Green, Bellamy Blake and the other half-dozen Arkadians who participated in the murder of the Grounders who had been sent to protect Arkadia. Each of them was shackled and secured to a long beam that ran the length of the wagon's bed, allowing them some freedom of movement inside the wagon's bed but preventing them from escaping.

"So why does Monroe get to ride with her fuckbuddy while the rest of us are chained up like slaves?" asked one of the prisoners, a young man in his late twenties named Lucas. He had served with the guards on the Ark and then in Arkadia, but his position had been stripped as soon as Clarke Griffin had returned. He still bore significant resentment against Nathan Miller, as the younger man had been his partner in the guards until the revolt against Pike, when the guards who had been members of The 100 had turned on their friends and incapacitated them to protect Clarke.

The betrayal he felt in the form of the shockstick jammed into his side still burned as much today as it had the moment it happened.

"Isn't it obvious?" asked a dour voice.

Lucas turned his head to meet Bellamy Blake's dark eyes.

"She's friends with Clarke," Bellamy said. "That means special treatment."

"She also left the guards, switched from carrying a gun to working in Medical," added Kyla, a woman in her mid-thirties. From Farm Station just like Charles Pike, she lost her daughter in the crash landing on Earth and her husband to the initial Azgeda raid on the survivors. She had been one of the first to back Pike's distrust of all grounders, and she refused to apologize for her convictions, even now that doubts had firmly set in. People did what they did, and they lived—or died—with the consequences. It was a simple equation.

"That doesn't absolve her of the fact that she was with us," Hannah said quietly but angrily. "Her hands are just as bloody as ours. They better kill her with the rest of us."

"Clarke said that none of us are going to be killed unless we force them," Bellamy said, his voice low.

"And do you believe her?" asked Lucas, contempt quite audible in his words.

Bellamy met his angry stare. "I trust her word more than anyone else I've ever met," he said flatly.

Kyla considered Bellamy's hopeless devotion. He wanted to fuck Clarke Griffin badly, and he was never going to get the chance. He was just too starry-eyed to accept reality. She sighed. "I trusted Charles, too," she said. "Sometimes we pick the wrong sides." She shrugged.

It was what it was.

—O—

When the first messenger brought word to her, Lexa very nearly leapt out of her skin. It took a few moments for her whirling thoughts and bounding heart to calm to the point she could form logical thoughts once more, and then she was a storm of motion, grabbing her jacket, her red sash of rank and her swordbelt before running to the elevator.

Minutes later, Lexa was on her favorite horse, leading a dozen warriors on a gallop through the streets toward the main gates of Polis.

Crowds were already gathered along the sides of the main road, eagerly shouting and swirling as the news of Wanheda's return sped through the city. Thankfully, that eagerness was checked by restraint and the advance rider, calling for Polis's citizens to move to the side to safely allow their Heda to pass unhindered.

Lexa reached the edge of the city in time to see the massive counterweights attached to the main doors begin to stir. A sliver of light became visible between the massive steel plates, once part of some massive structure whose name was lost to time and nuclear fire, as they crept apart slowly.

Now the crowd began to chant eagerly, as they had done when Lexa had returned from the secret raid on Coldspire. This time, however, it was Wanheda's name on the lips of the people of Polis, instead of Heda's, and the difference made Lexa both smile with pride and shiver with anticipation.

Her _houmon_ was home.

—O—

"Oh my God," Harper said softly as she took in the sight of the massive wall, the huge gray doors, the palisade of guards lining the wall towering over them.

"You can say that again," Monroe whispered in Harper's ear, her body now pressed up behind Harper's atop their horse, as they had switched positions after the last rest stop an hour ago. "Pike was a fucking idiot for thinking we could take them in a drawn-out war."

Harper marveled as the metal groaned slightly from the motion of the doors grating open. They were about midway back in the convoy, a few positions behind the wagons ferrying the prisoners, but suddenly Harper wished she was even further back, to delay whatever reception they were going to receive as long as possible.

—O—

It had taken a bit of polite arguing, but Clarke was the first one to enter the city of Polis, followed by Elsa and Anna, each astride a shimmering white steed.

"Your people looked to you to deal with this situation with this Pike person," Elsa had calmly stated. "As such, you alone should be the one to accept their accolades for successfully doing so."

Anna had offered a more wryful rejoinder.

"Suck it up. You're a queen now, pretty much, and you'd better get used to this sort of thing." Her blue-green eyes had sparkled playfully before she added, "Your people want to see you, Clarke. They look up to you. They're _proud_ of you. When you succeed, all of your people succeed, and it's important to give _them_ that moment, whether you really want it or not."

So Clarke led the procession into Polis.

The crowds erupted in cheers as soon as they saw the blonde braids of the lead rider, astride her sorrel horse.

" _WAN-HED-A! WAN-HED-A!"_ echoed along the city walls, repeated energetically as Clarke guided her mount ahead at a slow pace. Following her were six Trikru guards, then the wagon holding Charles Pike, its cover removed right before they entered the city. There were many angry glares directed briefly at him, seated and chained to the wagon, but no one dared shout or threaten him. The time for his punishment would come soon enough, and the residents of Polis still possessed enough patience to wait for justice to be carried out formally. And slowly.

Clarke looked around the crowds, unsure of whether or not to wave as she made her way through the thronged crowds. But then she caught sight of the small unit of mounted warriors standing ahead of them, watching and waiting as Clarke led the restrained victory march. And square in the middle of those mounted was a very familiar head of long, dark hair, her elegant face bereft of any face paint or decoration, so eager had been her haste to meet the returning party.

It took all of Clarke's self-control to not send her horse running forward, but she didn't want to possibly embarrass Lexa. Or herself. So she steeled herself to maintain the same slow, steady pace forward until, long minutes later, she finally drew near to her wife.

Clarke turned and looked behind her, motioning for the procession to keep moving forward as she slowly guided her horse toward Lexa's position at the side of the main street. Pike and the other prisoners would be held in the main tower until it was time for formal judgment on him, likely later that day. She and Lexa would have to decide what to do with Harper, but Clarke doubted the blonde was going to leave Monroe. At least they could let the two of them have a cell of their own, hopefully, until they could decide what was going to be done with the others.

The Skaikru prisoners had more value alive than dead. Lexa knew that. Well, except for Pike. That fucker was going to suffer, especially after Clarke found out he had been planning on executing all the Trikru prisoners Arkadia had been holding, including Lincoln. She and Elsa had arrived the day before he had planned on carrying out that course of action, which had made Clarke sick at her stomach when she considered how close she had come to letting Pike kill innocents again.

Clarke smiled widely and dismissed those morbid thoughts as she stopped her horse beside Lexa's, her mount pointing in the opposite direction as her wife's as they hovered next to each other. "Hey," she said simply, a helpless grin on her face, feeling like she was going on her first date all over again.

"Welcome home, _ai hodnes_ ," Lexa said, her voice thick with emotion.

Clarke's heart pounded. _Her love_ , she had called her. The blonde blinked away tears that felt very un-Wanheda-like as she reached out and took Lexa's hand. "It's good to be home, _ai houmon_ ," she said softly. "I missed you."

Lexa smiled and leaned toward Clarke, reaching up and sliding her fingers through Clarke's blond braids behind her head. "And I missed you," she said before kissing Clarke on the lips.

"Awww," Anna said softly to Elsa. She and Elsa had stopped their horses next to their two friends, likewise moving to the side of the main road to allow the rest of the arrivals to pass by them. "I bet that's how we looked a few nights ago, wasn't it?"

Elsa smiled as she watched their friends stare longingly into each other's eyes. "Well, minus my broken bone and the burns you had suffered, at least," she replied.

"Both of which seem to be healed now," Anna added.

"Yes, no more chapped skin for you," Elsa said with an adoring smile. "I noticed."

"And you seem to be moving your arm without any problems."

"A little sore first thing this morning, but much improved," Elsa agreed. A drop in the noise level of the crowd drew her attention, and she looked behind Anna to see a peculiar sight.

"Clarke..." Elsa asked, raising her voice to be better heard by her friend. She kept her eyes focused on the back half of the convoy, which was now inside the city walls and drawing a surprising amount of attention.

"Yeah, Elsa?" replied Clarke, guiding her horse into a slow turn so that she could better look at the blonde queen.

"You might want to come look at this."

—O—

No sooner was their horse inside the walls of Polis than Harper detected the shift in the mood of the crowd. It was subtle at first, with a few bystanders subtly pointing or gesturing in her direction, followed by other leaning close to others and whispering. The cheers of the crowd began to ebb in her immediate area, until it was only the crowds ahead of them that continued to cheer and shout. All those nearby were silently staring at Harper and Monroe as they sat together on the horse they shared.

"This isn't the least bit creepy, is it?" Monroe finally said, looking from one side to the other, seeing scores of grounders now openly watching them, their faces ranging from shock to devotion to beatific joy before bowing their heads and standing quietly while Harper and Monroe passed in front of them.

"I thought it was creepy with the pilgrims," Harper whispered over her shoulder to her girlfriend. "I was definitely wrong."

"Hey, at least they love you," Monroe replied, just as quietly. "They could hate you." _Like they do me._

Harper felt her girlfriend's arms tighten just slightly around her torso. "Clarke's promised me you're going to be okay," Harper said quietly. "And anyway, anything they try to do to you, they're going to have to do to me too."

"No, Harp," Monroe hissed at just above a whisper.

" _Yes_ , Zoe," Harper replied back, just as quiet and stern. "You're my partner, and that means we take whatever life throws at us together, the good and the bad. And if I can use this... this _thing_ they've created for me to help spare you any suffering, then I'm sure as fuck doing it."

—O—

Elsa and Anna watched the crowds go quiet as Harper and Monroe passed by, lowering their heads in respect until the horse carrying the two young women had passed.

"One day," Anna began quietly, "the two of you are going to have to tell us what that's about." She turned to look at Clarke and Lexa, leaving no doubt to whom she was addressing.

"Tonight would be a good time to do so," Lexa said, turning to look at the redhead and platinum blonde. "Clarke and I need to discuss the matter of punishment for those who were Charles Pike's accomplices before his punishment tonight."

"How are the war preparations proceeding?" asked Elsa.

Lexa turned to meet the blonde queen's blue eyes. "Reasonably well," she said calmly. "We can discuss those matters in detail this evening, after the prisoners have been secured."

"Harper is going to demand to stay with Monroe," Clarke said.

Lexa's expression turned the slightest bit remorseful as she met her houmon's eyes. "I will make sure they are allowed to stay together," Lexa said. "And kept apart from the others."

"Thank you," Clarke said tenderly. "Really. Thank you."

There was a pause for a few seconds before Lexa spoke again, this time her voice notably quieter. "I have considered what you asked, before you left to retrieve Charles Pike."

Clarke looked back up, toward Lexa, but her wife's gaze remained focused on Harper and Monroe as they slowed rode by.

"I have a possible outcome for Pike's followers that does not require their death," Lexa continued. She turned to meet Clarke's rapt gaze. "But I would like to go over it carefully with you first, before officially proclaiming it."

Clarke nodded quickly. "O-Of course," she said, throat thick with emotion. Once again, Lexa had chosen mercy over revenge simply because Clarke had _asked_. She blinked a few times before easing her horse closer, nearly bumping the side of Lexa's horse, so she could give Lexa a quick but heartfelt one-armed hug. "Thank you, _ai houmon_ ," Clarke whispered. "I love you."

Lexa smiled back softly, then returned her attention to the procession, once again carefully concealing her emotions behind her emotionless Commander's mask while the dutiful Wanheda took her rightful position at the Commander's side. The crimson sash over Lexa's left shoulder and the dark blue one hanging off Clarke's right both swayed and blew in the breeze, their movements paralleling each other with a simple ease that contradicted the formality of their bearers' posture and neutral expressions.

Although maybe the slightest hint of a smile could be seen at the corner of the Commander's mouth, were one to look closely enough.

—O—

Harper watched as the Skaikru who had participated in Pike's attack on the Trikru were led into small, spartan windowless rooms on the first floor of the massive tower. They were divided into pairs, with each room possessing a flat bed, a simple toilet and a small sink. The guards standing outside each door made it quite clear that each room was a prison cell, though, removing any doubts or euphemisms about the status of the prisoners.

Pike, however, was led deeper into the windowless hallway, and Monroe and Harper followed the contingent of Trikru leading them. Here Pike was placed into a cell by himself, the chains at his feet fastened to a ring on the floor. His withered right hand and forearm had started to develop a sickly greenish sheen to the blackened texture of its skin, and despite basic attempts to keep it clean, it was clear that the limb was rotting.

It was only after Pike was secured in his cell and the barred door closed with the ominous snapping of a bulky latch that the attitude of the Trikru escorts changed.

There were still no words spoken, but the very mood of the men and women escorting Harper and Monroe seemed to lift as they opened another door to reveal simple concrete steps leading up. After climbing to the next floor, they led the two young women down a nicer hallway, with simple paint on the walls and light streaming in through open windows rather than from lanterns and candles.

"Here is your room," said the short, squat man who had led them and the other prisoners through the building. He stepped aside to reveal a significantly larger room, with a twin bed, a small chair, a desk and a window that had already been opened to allow a small breeze to ruffle the thin drapes and swirl about the room. A small door led to an adjoining water closet with a toilet, sink and shower.

"Why do we get special treatment?" Monroe finally asked.

Harper noted the furtive glances in her own direction before anyone replied to her girlfriend's question.

The stocky man looked intently into Monroe's eyes; even being as short as he was, he remained several inches taller than her, and he was at least twice as wide as the petite redhead. "There is only one reason that matters," he finally said, his voice raspy. "Heda has commanded it."

The three Trikru warriors in the small room with them bowed their heads slightly, then they turned and quickly walked out of the room, closing the door behind them. The click of a lock turning was audible, followed by silence.

Monroe looked at the locked door for several seconds. Then she turned into Harper's embrace, wrapping her arms around the blonde she loved and holding tightly to her as the tears began.

—O—

The small war council that had been convened in the planning room that was part of Lexa's and Clarke's chambers had been going for nearly two hours, but spirits were surprisingly upbeat.

Monty and Raven had set up a satellite uplink antenna on the edge of Lexa's balcony, using it to connect to real-time satellite imaging displayed via a portable monitor and computer they had brought with them. This allowed them to see exactly how far Nia's forces had been able to advance into Coalition territory, as well as make another notable observation.

"So she's using her powers to create winter storms before and during battles," Clarke said after the third set of images that were whited out with clouds and frozen precipitation immediately before Nia's army clashed with a defending force, the most recent images collected just that morning. She remained well north of Polis, but her forces were moving south more quickly than Clarke had expected.

" _Something_ is definitely making a blizzard appear out of nowhere," Monty replied, gesturing to the dense white cloud cover taking up most of the screen on the current image.

"And that fits with the stories we have heard from survivors of the initial skirmishes with the Azgeda," Lexa added. "They have all said that the Azgeda Queen can bend the snow and ice to her will, and that she uses it to savage those who try to stand against her."

Lexa turned to look at Elsa, who appeared to be understandably offended at Nia presuming to command the cold. "Do you think you can challenge her power, with your magic weaker in this world?" the brunette asked her friend, not entirely eager to hear the answer. "She certainly shows no sign of strain when using her powers, according to our spies."

Elsa considered the question for several ponderous seconds, her attention fixed on the incredibly detailed picture that remained on the strange "display" screen. She finally looked up, meeting Lexa's curious green eyes. "My powers are definitely weakened here, yes," Elsa said, "but while Nia appears to have more raw strength in this world, she's much less experienced than I am with controlling the cold. I think I have a few tricks up my sleeve that she won't be prepared for."

Lexa's face remained neutral. "Are you confident enough that it is worth risking our forces to meet her head-on in battle?" she asked bluntly.

Elsa nodded. "Anna and I will be there with you," she replied, a hint of annoyance detectable in her tone at Lexa's doubt in her abilities. "If I'm willing to risk not only my own life but the lives of my wife and unborn child, that should tell you how confident I am in my ability to deal with Nia's magic."

The two continued to stare at each other for a few more seconds before a single fat snowflake fell slowly between them, lazily tumbling its way downward through the air. Lexa finally nodded once. "I meant no disrespect to you, Elsa," the brunette said calmly. "My apologies if it came across that way."

A smile graced Elsa's pink lips. "You're concerned about the safety of your people, as a good leader should be," the blonde replied. "No need to apologize for that."

"And I'm trying to determine the exact state of all our military resources for this battle," Lexa added. "Which is vital enough that I cannot allow friendship and courtesy to impede my thought process."

Elsa nodded slightly. "We understand," she said. "I'll try to keep my emotions under better control."

She smiled as she felt Anna's arms encircle her; Elsa closed her eyes and leaned backwards into her wife's embrace as she tried to will away the constant fatigue and growing strain this world continued to exert upon her. The gnawing fatigue in her body and dull ache in her head began to ease as their magic flowed and cycled between the two of them, giving Elsa a surge of energy that was sorely needed after hours of planning and debate.

"Maintaining firm lines of fire for the gunners will have to be a high priority for all our forces," Lexa said, gesturing to the points she had marked on the large topographical map unrolled on the large table between them. "While the guns will be of enormous benefit to our side, the bullets they shoot will kill our warriors as easily as the Azgeda and their allies."

"I'm still worried about telling the two forces apart," said Marcus Kane. "Especially at a distance."

"Nia will have her forces clearly marked with her symbol or banner," Lexa said confidently. "Her ego would allow no less."

"Possibly so, but in the chaos of battle, it could be very hard to spot something fairly small like a symbol or ribbon," Kane argued. "Especially at a distance, since you want to keep most of the gunners out of the front lines."

"Raven and Wick helped us with that," Clarke said, reaching into a bag placed beside the table. She retrieved a small bucket, sealed with a metal lid, which she placed on one corner of the map.

Seeing looks of confusion upon everyone's faces, she gestured to the metal container. "It's a spray-on pigment they made. Invisible to the unaided eye, but with polarized filters in place, it glows a bright orange. We'll mark everyone's chest and back with it before the battle, and we'll give the gunners filters to place in their sights so they can see the pigment. That should help prevent any accidental shootings."

Lexa nodded. "A clever idea. As with everything else we have discussed, we must keep this secret between those in this room."

The small crowd gathered around the table silently considered the plan of battle.

"Do you really think twenty gunners will make that big a difference against an entire army?" asked Kane.

Lexa met him with a stern glare, but before she could speak, a sharp bark drew everyone's attention to Indra.

"Three hundred dead Trikru can testify to their effectiveness," spat the dusky woman, eyes shining bright with fury.

Lexa took a deep breath before she spoke again, breaking the sudden tension in the room. "I will speak with you and Nathan Miller later, Markus Kane, about how I would like to deploy your Skaikru and their weapons."

Kane nodded, looking over at Nathan, who returned a simple nod. He turned back to Lexa. "Of course, Commander. If you'd like, I can pull up some reading on warfare using firearms for you to review, dating back to—"

He stopped abruptly as he caught the look of amusement on the young brunette's face. "Did I say something wrong?" he asked. "If so, I—"

"It is fine, Markus Kane kom Skaikru," Lexa said, and to the astonishment of many of those in the planning room, the normally grim-visaged Heda actually... _smiled_.

"I appreciate your offer, Markus Kane," Lexa said, keeping the soft smile to a polite level. "But I am already familiar with the works of Clausewitz, whose writings are likely the ones to which you're referring. I have read and reread _On War_ many times, along with the writings of Sun Tzu and Musashi, Rommel and Patton, the campaigns of Caesar and the battles of Khalid ibn al-Walid."

"Lexa has a pretty good library," Clarke said, proudly patting her wife on the shoulder.

"I prefer to save knowledge, not destroy it," Lexa said agreeably. She looked back to Kane and said, her green eyes nearly glowing with fierceness, "I have fought in hundreds of battle, Markus Kane, over a hundred years."

"That's—"

"AND I possess the memories of all those Hedas who served before me," Lexa continued, ignoring his soft protest. "Such is the power of the Commander's Flame, of the Commander's Spirit."

At hearing those words, Clarke's eyes briefly flicked toward Lexa's long brown hair, cascading down her back and concealing the rapidly fading incision on the back of her neck, just as Clarke's blonde hair, now hanging loose and out of braids, did to conceal her own matching incision.

The first act the two of them had carried out after Wanheda's triumphant return had been to escape into the sacred chamber at the base of Polis's tower, where Cicero had removed the Flame from Clarke's neck and returned it to Lexa. This process went much smoother than the first time he had performed the procedures, taking less than an hour. Those who had noticed the disappearance of their Heda and Wanheda had knowingly (and quietly) speculated that the two houmons were performing more amorous activities, and Clarke and Lexa had done nothing to dispel those rumors after they had rejoined everyone else.

Those amorous activities, unfortunately, had to wait at least a few hours longer.

The harsh crash of a gong outside and far below the planning room seized everyone's attention.

Clarke looked back to Lexa.

"It's time," spoke the brunette, all traces of her smile now erased.

Without another word, Lexa turned and strode toward the doors leading to the hallway, with Clarke behind her. Anna and Elsa smoothly fell into step behind them, followed by Indra, then Marcus Kane after a brief pause, and then everyone else.

—O—

As the small party of leaders emerged from the tall structure that formed the heart of Polis, torches were already lit and flickering around the city's main square. The gloaming was just beginning, but already shadows were growing long and ominous throughout the city.

A massive crowd had gathered for the ceremony, soft murmuring quickly growing silent as Lexa and Clarke led the others in front of the crowd. A silent motion from Lexa toward her friends indicated for Elsa and Anna to stop at the edge of the crowd, with Kane and Nathan Miller following suit. Indra continued to follow her Heda and Wanheda, but back at a respectful distance now.

Tied to the large post erected on the modest stage in the center of the commons area was Charles Pike, occasionally tugging against the many bindings holding him tightly against the large piece of wood. His left forearm was nearly the color of charcoal as the skin inexorably tightened over the decomposed tissue beneath it.

As they watched, six warriors brought forth the small group of Pike's supporters who had carried out the slaughter. Quiet rumblings began to pass through the watching crowd, growing louder as the guards led the small band of Skaikru onto the stage. The whispering swelled into open voices and a few gasps and audible cries of surprise as Harper and Monroe mounted the stairs and stepped onto the platform.

Lexa stopped the procession with an upraised hand; instantly the guards and the prisoners alike stopped at once, with even the anxious murmuring of the crowd quieting at the gesture.

"Mon-Roe kom Skaikru," Lexa spoke clearly, a patient look on her face. "You and _Jusdonosir_ are not being judged today."

Monroe's mouth opened, but only a soft noise came forth at first. She took a breath, then said, "As... as much as I wish I had never taken part in that attack, I-I did," finishing as her voice cracked at the end.

Harper squeezed her girlfriend's hand. "I stand with... with the woman I love," she said, sounding much confident than she felt internally.

Lexa slowly walked forward, trying to not intimidate the two brave young women who faced her, but judging by the way both of them trembled at her approach, her efforts were unsuccessful.

"Mon-Roe kom Skaikru," Lexa said carefully, trying to keep her voice from sounding threatening but still trying to be clear enough for the crowd to hear. "You have already paid your debt for your crimes. You paid with your life, when you died weeks ago from inhaling the blistersap gas. A terrible death, as we are all aware."

Monroe blinked, seemingly oblivious of the twin tears that slipped from her ruddy eyelashes and trickled down her cheeks. "But... But th-they brought me back..." she mumbled.

Lexa smiled. "We are well aware of the miracles that Wanheda and her mother, _fisa_ Abby kom Skaikru, can perform. It was them, after all, who saved many of the Reapers." Lexa gestured back toward Clarke.

Hoping that she wasn't overstepping her boundaries, Clarke spoke up. "You died, Monroe," she said, taking a first hesitant step forward that turned into a more confident second and then third step as she began to slowly ascend the platform. "Several times, actually. Nathan Miller, who is here today, witnessed several of them, as did my mom and Jackson, our other doctor. He's also here and can testify to your death."

Lexa stepped forward, closing the rest of the distance between her and Monroe and Harper. She slowly reached up and placed her hands on each of Monroe's shoulders. "Your crimes were terrible, Mon-Roe, but you _have_ paid for them."

"I'm still paying for them," Monroe said, so softly that only Harper and Lexa could hear it as the redhead bowed her head and clenched her eyes tightly shut, dislodging a handful of tears that had gathered.

"Yes, you are," Lexa said, in a voice much softer. "And that will be your burden to bear. But you have one who has chosen to bear it with you, and that is a blessing beyond price."

Lexa looked over at Harper, seeing emotions at war with each other in the blonde's stormy brown eyes as she glared back at the taller woman. " _Jusdonosir_ ," Lexa said carefully. "Your courage and devotion to your houmon is admirable. You were willing to face death with her."

"I already do, every day," Harper replied, trying with only partial success to keep her frustration and irritation out of her voice. "That's what life's all about. Isn't it?"

Lexa's expression was carefully neutral as she scrutinized the blonde's expression, defiant and stubborn even in such a precarious situation. "It is," she finally said, keeping her voice cool. "You saved many lives, Jusdonosir, across all the clans. The Coalition of Clans will never forget your suffering and the lives you saved with your blood and your pain." Lexa smiled. "You and your houmon Mon-Roe are both free to go. We have a special place prepared for you during your stay in Polis."

"Um, thanks," Harper said, her words suddenly seeming to become tangled between her throat and her tongue.

"C'mon," Clarke said, stepping forward and extending an open hand toward Harper and Monroe. "I'll show you around in just a bit."

Clarke led the two still-slightly apprehensive young women off the platform and over to where Anna and Elsa stood. The two Arendellans gave friendly smiles to their younger friends, then they returned their attention back to the platform as Lexa began to speak once more. But as Clarke turned to retake her place, Harper reached and tugged on the sleeve of Clarke's dark red jacket.

Clarke glanced down to see what had snagged her, then she looked at Harper's face, laced with confusion.

"We're not actually married," Harper whispered to the other blonde. "I thought you knew that."

Clarke's eyes softened as her face relaxed; she tried to tune out Lexa's speech behind her with a modicum of success; she already knew what her wife was going to say, anyway. "The Trikru don't make it as complicated as we do, with relationships," she explained softly. "You and Monroe have sex, you made a home together, you live together, you consider yourselves partners. You've dedicated yourselves to each other, right? By actions if not in words?"

Harper stared at Clarke for a bare second before nodding several times. "Yeah," she breathed out.

Now Clarke smiled. "That's good enough for the Trikru."

Harper smiled back weakly, then her eyes widened as she made a mental connection. "Like... you and Lexa?" she guessed.

The smile on Clarke's face widened. "Yeah," she replied simply. "I, uh have to get back up there. For this thing to get started."

"Oh yeah, okay," Harper said, but before Clarke could pull away, a second tug, this one on the hem of her jacket, held her in place.

"Thank you, Clarke," said Zoe Monroe, her face stark in its unguardedness. "And tell Lexa thank you, too."

"I will," Clarke said, clasping the petite redhead's right hand with her left. "And you're welcome."

—O—

As Clarke guided Harper and Monroe off the platform, Lexa turned her entire body toward the thousands assembled; with just that motion and the widening of her eyes, everyone fell silent once more.

For several interminable seconds, the Commander's intense eyes swept over the crowd, once, twice, slowly. Finally, when it seemed as if the moment would never end, Lexa spoke.

"The crimes that were committed against our people were brutal and unwarranted. They were acts of desperation by an unhinged man, driven to madness by the death of his houmon and child at the hands of the cursed Azgeda."

A few quiet whispers could faintly be heard through the crowd during the brief pause.

"JUS DREIN JUS DAUN!" Lexa shouted, and in less than a second, the massive crowd echoed her words, roared them back at the fierce brunette in reply.

"Blood must have blood!" Lexa spoke, less forcefully than before but still with emphasis. "And so it shall," she finished as she turned to Charles Pike, who had stopped struggling several minutes ago.

"Charles Pike kom Skaikru," Lexa said as she slowly walked toward the man who glared at her with hatred in his eyes. "You have planned and led an attack upon three hundred Trikru who had been sent to protect your people. Your hatred toward all the Clans nearly sundered our alliance with your people, and today you pay for your crimes with your life.

"Those who lost loved ones to your murderous attack will be the first to cut into your flesh, each bloody line a reminder of what you coldly, cruelly took from them. You claim we are untrustworthy because the Azgeda attacked your people and killed your family, yet you committed the same crimes against us, a different clan who exacted no harm upon you or your people." She glared at him, smiling coldly when his eyes briefly flicked away from her stare.

"I will NOT apologize!" Pike said hotly, a fleck of spittle flying from his mouth as he looked at the crowds gathered before and below him. "What I did, I did to protect my people!"

Lexa looked at him calmly. "No, your actions only put 'your people' in even more danger, and your inability to see that is part of what makes you so dangerous." She turned around, fully confident in him being restrained but maybe, _slightly_ hoping for him to somehow escape his bindings and attack her, so she could personally hurt him further.

Lexa looked over the crowd gathered before her, made up mostly of Trikru but consisting of ambassadors of all the clans save for the Azgeda and those they had forced into allying with them. She looked over at Marcus Kane, at Nathan Miller, at the healer Jackson and the other Skaikru who had journeyed to Polis with Clarke. Then she met the eyes of her houmon, who smiled proudly at Lexa.

"Where you have failed the most profoundly, Charles Pike, is that there is no 'your people' and 'my people' anymore. There is only _our_ people, and your crimes against those three hundred warriors was a crime against your allies."

"I refuse to accept that!" Pike shouted.

Lexa patiently turned around, and the slow smile that stretched across her face as she regarded the man sent chills up his spine. "And that is another reason why you must die, Charles Pike," she said in the same patient tone of voice she would have used to address a small child. "Your inability to recognize or accept that you... were... _wrong_." She paused for a few seconds, matching his glare with equal intensity. "For you, there shall be no mercy, as you deserve none."

She turned again, taking a handful of steps toward the small contingent of Skaikru prisoners nearby, awaiting their own judgment. She stopped roughly ten meters away from them, looking at each face one at a time, receiving looks that ranged from angry and challenging to quiet and accepting to proud and defiant.

"With the coming of Wanheda," Lexa spoke patiently, "came the birth of a new belief, standing alongside _jus drein jus daun_ , equal but opposing. _Jus drein NO jus daun!_ " She allowed a few moments of rapt silence before continuing. "With Wanheda's power over death came a wisdom that taught us that sometimes, life is the better choice over death. And so it shall be with these followers of Charles Pike, those who followed the orders of their leader in the false belief that what they were doing was right. For them, their punishment shall not be death but rather _life_ , so that they might learn from their great mistake and make amends to those whom they have harmed by their actions."

Lexa kept her face stern as she continued, "For each Trikru slain on that bloody day as well as for the sole survivor, each of you shall live as a Trikru for a week. You will eat with us. You will work with us. You will train with us. You will _bleed_ with us."

At the first hint of whispers among the crowd, Lexa's left arm shot out to the side; instantly the crowd behind her grew quiet, bringing a grim smile to Lexa's lips.

This was not Arendelle, where debate was tolerated.

This was the Ground.

"Three hundred weeks," Lexa said, slowly and solemnly, keeping her eyes on the Skaikru assembled before her, her gaze sliding from face to face. "That will be the debt repaid for the lives lost at your hands. Instead of taking life, you will help nurture it. Instead of fighting over land, we will work together. We will share our knowledge, as we will share our lands... and our lives."

She looked over the prisoners. "This is my decision, as Heda of the Coalition of Clans. Each of you begins your new life today." She paused, meeting each set of eyes in turn: defiant... angry... resigned... sorrowful... and, rarely, relieved. "You have Wanheda and her wisdom to thank for this new chance at life," Lexa added. "We will teach you, but it is up to you to truly _learn_."

Lexa turned to Indra. "Have them taken to the tower," the brunette told her general. "Have them fed, give them rooms and let them rest. Wanheda and I will meet with them later to decide where each of them will be placed to begin penance."

"Sha, Heda," Indra said firmly. She motioned for the group of Skaikru prisoners to come to her, keeping her expression neutral even when her eyes briefly met those of Bellamy Blake.

—O—

Once his accomplices had been removed from the stage, it was time for Charles Pike to die.

As Lexa had promised, those Trikru who had lost loved ones in the massacre were allowed to make the first cuts, and they proved to be patient and creative with claiming their bloody vengeance. Less than twenty minutes into the execution, Pike was grunting in pain, though he refused to plead or beg. Grievous harm had already been exacted upon him; blood streamed from his face, his arms and his legs, and he appeared to be losing consciousness from time to time.

While they declined to take part in the brutal ritual, Anna and Elsa remained present for the entire time it took Pike to die, just over two hours. Both of them maintained their composure throughout the ordeal, even long after their thoughts of righteous retribution had been overwhelmed by the condemned man's visible suffering.

Anna seemed to be tolerating Pike's suffering better than Elsa was. Which made sense, because if it had been _Anna_ the man had shot, Elsa likely would have been up there carving off part of his face with a dagger of razor-sharp ice. But Anna seemed to understand that Elsa needed her wife with her during the gory spectacle, and no matter how Elsa's emotions and stomach seemed to twist and squirm inside her, Anna was right there, holding her tightly and placing soft kisses on the blonde's head every so often.

For the first time since they had arrived on this strange, violent world, Elsa was glad at how much weaker her magic was here, for otherwise the entire city would have likely been buried in snow and ice by now. Whether it was the pregnancy, the near-fatal injury several days ago, the ongoing separation from their children and their home or the sight of the man being slowly executed in front of her, Elsa was a mess internally. But through it all she maintained her careful facade of composure; there would be enough time to fall apart in the safety of Anna's strong arms in their chambers later that night.

Charles Pike finally drew his last breath after dark had fully settled over Polis. Torches had been lit to maintain visibility of his suffering once the light had nearly ebbed. Much of the crowd had melted away by that point, along with nearly all of the Arkadians. Only Marcus Kane remained of that contingent to witness Pike's body stiffen awkwardly, spasming twice before his limbs slowly, agonizingly relaxed to the point of going limp.

Lexa looked over to Octavia, giving the dark-haired girl a slow nod.

Octavia politely nodded in response before ascending the steps quickly and silently. She drew the dagger at her right side as she stalked quickly toward Pike's body, now slumped forward and suspended by the ropes binding him to the pole behind him. With a swift thrust, she buried her knife's blade in the left side of his throat, cutting forward as she withdrew her blade and crossed in front of him, repeating the stabbing on the other side of his throat to ensure he was truly dead.

She stood and stared at the dead man for a long second, considering how near it had been to it being Pike standing over the dead body of Lincoln. Without another word, she wiped both sides of her knife's blade on Pike's dark shirt, then returned the weapon to its sheath.

"So ends Charles Pike," Clarke said softly, taking a step forward. "He was an asshole in life and only slightly less of one in death."

—O—

"What the fuck are we going to do, Harp?" Monroe asked as they stood in the middle of the large room they had been given, high in the tower that rose defiantly over Polis.

"What do you mean?" asked Harper, her mouth currently buried in her girlfriend's strawberry hair as thoughts of actually _marrying_ Monroe in a traditional Ark ceremony stubbornly (and happily) danced through her mind.

Monroe pulled back slightly to look into Harper's brown eyes. "I mean, we're in this city, surrounded by more people than the Ark ever held at any one time. And some of them want to kill me, but even more of them want to worship _you_."

"We do what we always do," Harper said, smiling even though there was a sadness in her expressive eyes that tugged at Monroe's heart. "We survive. We live. And we do it together."

Harper hugged Monroe tightly, placing a soft kiss on the side of her smaller girlfriend's head. "We look out for each other, we take care of each other, we fuck as much as we can and we fight for our family. We fight for what we _love_."

Despite the surrealness of the situation, Monroe grinned against the soft skin of Harper's throat. "God, I love you, Harp," she said, her voice raw as she fought back tears.

The blonde sighed happily as she closed her eyes and allowed her worries and her fears to leave her for as long as she was in her lover's arms. "The feeling's mutual, babe," she said softly. "However long we have, five minutes or a hundred years, I love you with all I am."

—O—

Over a hundred miles away, Nia hungrily looked out over the destruction scattered before her. The howling wind and sleet and snow at her command had slain at least as many of the Coalition warriors as her Azgeda forces did, and she felt more than a bit giddy as she felt the angry storm yield to her command.

The approach of her wizard drew her attention from the dead bodies on the tundra ahead. "Were you able to obtain enough survivors to fuel your magic further?" asked Nia, a dark smile on her face.

Hans nodded. "More than enough, Your Majesty," he said politely, smiling his handsome smile. Or at least it _would_ have been handsome had Nia not seen enough to doubt whether the man remained entirely human at this point.

At this proximity, Nia could feel the oily whispers from the book of darkness held in the satchel draped over the man's shoulder. It seemed like the insidious noises had become more prominent as her own magic had grown, and Nia often considered whether that was an accident or entirely due to some subtle plan, either of the wizard or of the dark book itself, which he had been careful to always keep on his person.

"What is your opinion on the traitor?" Nia finally said, after it became apparent Hans felt no pressing need to make conversation as they watched the Azgeda strip the dead of what items of value remained.

"I detect no particular deception from him," said Hans carefully as his vision and dark senses sought out John Murphy, who was helping loot the bodies of the Coalition loyalists who had fallen on the battlefield. "Of course, there's not much truth to be gained from him, either," he admitted. "From what I can discern through his feelings, he seems to be entirely concerned with looking out for himself, as he had told us when he arrived."

Nia smiled. "Aren't we all," she said smugly. "So not an assassin sent by Lexa to kill me or stir up a rebellion, then."

Hans's mouth formed a flat line as he considered his response. "It doesn't appear so," he finally said. "He has no loyalty to anyone save himself. _That_ I am sure of."

"Again, as he admitted to Echo, when he first arrived here seeking protection," Nia said.

"I still recommend caution," Hans added. "It's possible this Heda might have more resources than we are aware of."

"She's a girl playing at a grown-up's game," Nia sniffed.

"A girl who has slain you once already, might I remind you," countered Hans easily. "You underestimate her at your peril. And I wouldn't be able to bring you back a second time."

"My army was twice the size of hers when we began our march," Nia said proudly. "And that was before she started throwing warriors away trying to slow my advance toward Polis."

Hans turned to look at Nia's sharply-lined face. "I have seen much more forbidding odds dealt a equally crushing defeat," he said calmly. "As your advisor, I implore you to put aside your arrogance and plan for the worst."

Nia turned to meet his eyes, green-blue but shot through with delicate threads of black if one were to look carefully enough. Her angry rejoinder stilled on her tongue as she considered the power the sinister man yet wielded. Trying to eliminate him without a clear idea of his sorcery and its limits would be foolish. "Coldspire is impregnable," she finally said. "And as long as I hold their families, the leaders of the clans we have assimilated will not risk the lives of those they love."

Hans sighed. "I would feel better if I had more reassurances than just your confidence."

"Then you'll be waiting until spring," Nia said with a wicked smile. "Coldspire is well-stocked by necessity, as it's unreachable for at least four months of the year. Those prisoners can't be freed until spring, which means our unwilling allies will remain loyal until then at the very least."

When the sorcerer refused to speak further, Nia waved her left hand dismissively. "Perhaps you should sacrifice some prisoners, before your pessimism sours our mood. We're less than two weeks from Polis, when the Coalition will fall, and we will bring a new era to the Twelve Clans!"

"That may be the case," Hans finally said. "But I still recommend you keep this John Murphy far away from you, or from me. I'm not willing to dismiss the possibility of him being sent here by your enemies, either as an assassin or as a spy."

"I already have others watching him," Nia replied confidently. "So far he has spoken to members of several different clans, trying to find one which will offer him protection once the war is over. None of the clans appreciate traitors."

"And has he had much luck?"

"The Blue Valley Clan has offered him sanctuary, in exchange for him sharing all the Skaikru knowledge he possesses."

A reddish eyebrow rose slightly. "And you're comfortable with that happening?" he asked. His patience was prodigious—the long-term view tended to come easily when one could extend one's lifespan with human sacrifice—but as reckless as Nia was becoming as a result of her new-found abilities, it didn't seem he would have to wait much longer before she brought about her own downfall without any assistance from him at all.

Nia smiled as she turned to look at him. "When this war is over, there won't be a Blue Valley Clan. Or a Glowing Forest Clan. Or a River Clan." She paused, then turned her attention back to the frozen bodies stretching out a half-mile before her.

"When this war is over, _all_ will be Azgeda." _And all will be mine_ , she proudly thought to herself.

—O—

 **Author's Afterword:** Finally, we can get to the big battle, which starts next chapter!


	15. Ch 15: Let's Get Metaphysical

**Author's Note:** Yes, this chapter is a bit shorter than my usual chapters. That's because I had to split this battle into two chapters, and it might even turn into three. I decided to separate them so I could go ahead and post something, though. The bright spot is that I'm already over halfway done with the next chapter following this one, so it shouldn't be much longer for it, too. Your patience is appreciated, as always.

Cover Art for the story is from the LexaRecovery tumblr. Stay strong together.

 _I do not own the television show "The 100" or make any claims upon it or its characters. Similarly, I do not own Frozen, its characters or any Disney characters or property. All these characters are used under the concept of Fair Use, and I make no profit or income from using any of them._

 **Our Fight Is Not Over**

by Jo K.

Chapter 15: Let's Get Metaphysical

 _How can you tell me what to have and what to hold_

 _If you never take the weight on your own_

 _No one tells us what is hard and what is fair_

 _But we will deliver once we know where to fall_

 _We are made of our longest days_

 _We are falling but not alone_

 _We will take the best parts of ourselves and make them gold_

 _We are made of our smallest thoughts_

 _We are breathing and letting go_

 _We will take the best parts of ourselves and make them gold_

-CHVRCHES, "Make Them Gold"

—O—

—O—

"You asked for me, Aunt?" Echo asked as she entered the elaborate tent Nia used, stitched together from the hides of more bears than she wanted to think about.

The Azgeda queen turned to look at Echo, a broad but short gladius made of ice in her hand as she halted her conversation with the sorcerer Hans. No other weapons were strapped at her waist or slung across her back; now that she could instantly create her own tools of cold death with ice magic, Nia had foregone anything so mundane as wearing base instruments of wood and metal to defend herself. She was above that now, when she could conjure a spear to impale an enemy or a dagger to slit a traitor's throat, or even just freeze a victim solid with a bolt of pure cold.

Echo's heart instantly began to hammer as she considered the situation. She was too controlled in her actions to turn to look behind her for any guards to prevent her fleeing, but only barely so.

She hadn't expected her own aunt, her last living relative, to kill her right before this battle, but at this point she couldn't say it was a total surprise.

Nia was insane.

While the woman had always been ruthless and vicious, the mental trauma of dying and being resurrected along with the addition of godlike power had propelled the Azgeda queen fully into megalomania, and the insidious voice of the infernal sorcerer Hans whispering in her ear certainly hadn't helped matters.

Echo swallowed. If Nia was going to try to kill her, then she was going to fight, with no quarter given. She didn't move to draw her dagger yet, but she was acutely aware of its weight at her hip as Nia slowly walked toward her, her favorite sly grin on her face.

"Echo," the older woman said softly, iron inside the velvet tone of voice. "I have a job for you."

It took a few seconds for the words to sink in, and then a moment more after that for her body to begin to relax. "O-Okay," she stammered, immediately hating herself for the verbal slip.

Nia smiled; with the opening of her hand, the icy weapon vanished in a flurry of snowflakes. "How go the preparations for battle?"

"Um, fine, I suppose," Echo managed to say, her voice still tight. "What little we're making, at least."

Echo had been quite vocal the previous day about the lack of tactics she had seen in Nia's plans for the upcoming battle. They were about to face Heda herself on the field of battle, and there had been less effort put into planning than even the skirmishes of the last few weeks. The Maunon Carl Emerson had been up to something, ordering around a small group of burly Azgeda men on the east side of the valley all day, but other than that it seemed like frighteningly little preparations had been made.

Nia just looked at her niece what what might have been fondness. "That's because the battle isn't going to be won on the ground in front of us," she said smugly.

Seeing the confused expression of the young blonde's face, Nia's smile grew even broader. "Come now, my dear niece, you certainly didn't think I'd be challenging the Heda with the most accomplished tactical mind in our history to a direct fight, did you?"

Echo blinked a few times. "W-Well, you... have the magic now," she offered. "And you have your wizard."

Hans smiled proudly. He had learned to ignore what others thought of him several years and many murders ago, but the fear that rolled off Echo whenever she was around him was so delicious that he couldn't resist savoring it.

"Yes, my magic will likely be enough to defeat Lexa's forces soundly," Nia said, lifting her hand and conjuring a spear made entirely of ice; she admired it for a few seconds before it vanished into a flurry of snowflakes. "But, as my adviser keeps telling me, it is foolish to overestimate any opponent."

Hans tipped his head forward slightly. "Indeed," he said calmly.

A frost dagger appeared in the Azgeda Queen's right hand; Nia made a cursory inspection of the shimmering weapon before opening her hand and letting it vanish as well. "I have deliberately chosen this particular location to engage Lexa's forces. That's why I ordered our forces to gently slow their advance several days ago."

Echo stared at her aunt. "You want to fight her here?"

"Absolutely."

"Okay, so why?"

Nia's smile curled into the familiar sly smile that used to fill Echo with delight. Now that expression on her aunt's lips curdled Echo's insides. "There is an underground passage along the west side of the valley, through the mountain that makes up the natural boundary of these fields. It's tiny, only large enough for a small force of warriors to pass though without armor. But it emerges well behind the approach into the valley."

"Where Lexa has assembled her forces and their camp," Echo said. "On the plateau, where her flanks are protected by the mountains... except for the approach into the valley."

"Exactly. This battle is far too crucial for Lexa to trifle with, so she will have committed all her available warriors to stop me here, today, on the field of battle. And since Lexa herself will be personally leading her forces into battle, for I would expect no less of the mighty Heda, her camp will be minimally defended... as will her precious little blonde Skai girl, for Lexa will not risk losing another lover to my mercies."

Echo felt her stomach begin to clench deep inside. "So why are you telling me this, Aunt?" she asked quietly.

Nia stepped forward, carefully tucking a few of Echo's dark blonde hairs behind her ear. "Because, my dear Echo, _you_ will be leading the group of assassins into Lexa's camp."

Echo's head began to pound and lights flashed behind her eyes as the enormity of the moment hit her. "ME?" she asked, stunned. "Wh-Why _me?"_

"Because you have proven your loyalty to me, time and again," Nia replied proudly. "Because you are my blood, my family. Because you are the only one I would trust a mission of this importance to."

Echo didn't register what else was said beyond that point. Eventually, after her aunt had stopped speaking in a silent dismissal, she turned and numbly walked out of Nia's tent. She needed to gather her things before one of the scouts came to lead her to the entrance to this tunnel. And before she gathered her things, she needed to think, to try to make sense of what she was about to do.

Was her aunt sending her on a suicide mission, to eliminate the last member of her family and thus the next in line for the Azgeda throne? Or was this truly a secret strike at Lexa's heart, the only vulnerable part of the formidable Heda? The ploy had worked years ago, halting Lexa's advance north and forcing a peace, and it would likely work again.

Or maybe, Echo thought grimly, Queen Nia hoped to accomplish both objectives at once.

—O—

Across the grassy plain of the valley floor between the two parallel mountain ranges, on the opposite side of the valley, a final war council had been convened.

The large tent that was currently home to Lexa and Clarke was crowded as the two of them, Elsa, Anna, Indra, Marcus Kane, Lincoln, Octavia and Harper were all gathered around the large planning table, a large map composed of satellite images joined together spread forth between them.

"The detail is incredible in these pictures," Lexa said, admiring the clarity of the map.

"Your eyes in the sky," Clarke said smugly, rubbing Lexa's bare shoulder. The tent was lit by several braziers, and the warmth of the flames combined with the number of people nearby more than offset the bitter chill outside.

The braziers also served to conceal that Lexa and Clarke both remained immune to the effects of the cold, something they had surreptitiously tested earlier that day. While they weren't certain if that immunity would extend to the magic Nia wielded directly, it did keep them from feeling the same chill the others in the Coalition forces had noted, so that was most definitely a good sign.

Elsa felt the cold in the valley was surprisingly natural, at least for now, but she could register the presence of Nia's tainted magic across the valley, adding that there was a distinct taint to its resonance that made her nauseous. Well, more nauseous than usual, at least, given her pregnancy.

"The Azgeda forces outnumber us significantly," Indra said, "but they fight on foot. They are powerful but slow, and they show no mercy."

"Nia's arrogance, increased along with her newfound power, will be her main weakness," Lexa said. "The Azgeda do not fight well on horseback. In the battles over the last two weeks, Nia has used her magic to freeze the ground, making cavalry unworkable in each skirmish. This time, however, she will find that trick no longer works."

"We hope," Harper said quietly, but her voice still carried through the silence. "I'm sorry, you two," Harper said, looking up at Elsa and Anna, "but I just can't put much trust in something I didn't know existed until a few days ago, especially with your magic being weaker here."

"I can tie up Nia's powers," Elsa said calmly, showing no outward sign of irritation; Anna was doing enough of that for both of them, anyway, giving their young friend a pointed look. "I have a few tricks up my sleeve that I doubt she's learned in a handful of weeks."

"The invisible dye Wick and Raven created has already been applied to the armor that will be worn for all our forces," Clarke said. "We'll make sure it's added to everyone's war paint as well. That way our gunners will be able to tell our forces apart from Nia's." Clarke frowned. "Well, unless she's told her warriors to put on anything they take off of our warriors that are killed."

"Nia has used her forces changing armor and clothing in battle before," Lexa said. "In the past, it allowed some of her troops to move close enough to assassinate opposing officers and capture critical targets."

Clarke sighed. "So we need to be watching for that as well. Great."

Marcus Kane stepped forward, waving his right hand over the small wooden tokens used to designate the Coalition forces. "I have some ideas for fields of fire planned out for the battle tomorrow. Our gunners will be most efficient and most deadly when the two forces approach each other, before the scrum that will develop once the hand-to-hand fighting begins. We should be able to reduce Nia's forces considerably by the time they're in melee range."

"We will not begin with a fusillade of gunfire into Nia's forces," Lexa said flatly.

"Commander—" Kane began, only to be cut off by Lexa's head turning quickly to glare at him.

"It is MY prerogative as Heda to choose the plan of battle, Markus Kane kom Skaikru," the brunette said firmly, heat audible in her voice. She held his surprised gaze for several seconds as the air in the spacious tent thickened with sudden tension.

"Not all of those in Nia's forces are there of their own free will," Lexa finally spoke, her voice calmer. "And knowing her cruelty and her pragmatism, Nia will almost certainly place her conscripted warriors in the front lines, so that they will bear the heaviest brunt of casualties, while saving her Azgeda to only engage us after the tribes from which she holds hostages have whittled away at our numbers."

"But you rescued the hostages," Octavia said, a bit confused.

"Yes," Lexa answered, "but it is most likely that no one, not even Nia, knows of that. Coldspire is isolated for months when the freeze sets in, with no one able to enter or leave." A sly smile crossed Lexa's lips. "Well, under normal circumstances."

Anna grinned as Elsa turned and smiled at her. "We're _definitely_ not normal," the redheaded queen said happily.

"No, you are not," Lexa said proudly, giving her newest friends a grateful smile. "None of us are. And never before has a fighting force such as ours taken the field of battle."

"Most of those with guns will be deployed singly, in units with Coalition warriors," Lexa said, looking to Kane again. "That way their shots will be precise and aimed only at the proper targets. They will be protected by the warriors with them, I swear to you." Lexa stepped closer to Marcus, taking her time so as not to appear threatening.

"The lives of Skaikru are every bit as important to me as Trikru," Lexa said confidently, meeting and holding Kane's eyes. "When the Coalition takes the field, we fight as one clan. On that field between us and the Azgeda, there will be no Skaikru, no Trikru. There will be only the _Kongeda_ , the Coalition... and part of that Coalition has been pressed into Nia's army. If there is a chance for us to save them, then we will try. But if there is no chance, then we will end their fights with the honor they deserve."

The brunette held Kane's gaze for several seconds before the older man smiled and nodded deferentially. "So do you have a plan to save them?" asked Kane.

Rather than answer, Lexa held his gaze for a few long seconds, then turned around and walked back to her previous position around the large planning map.

"Lexa always has a plan," Clarke said proudly. "You just normally can't see it coming until it smacks you in the face."

Lexa glanced sideways at Clarke and actually grinned a sly grin at the blonde. "Don't give away all of my secrets, my wife," she said softly but loudly enough for everyone to hear, drawing laughter from many of those around the planning table.

"The sorcerer remains the wild card," said Indra. "His—or her—magic is something we know very little about, and that is never good in warfare."

"I really wish Raven had been able to make us some more explosives," Clarke said. "But Mom was adamant about not letting her exert herself until she had fully recovered from the neural feedback from that virtual bitch ALIE."

Clarke hadn't shared the full details of the conflict between ALIE and BECA with anyone other than Lexa, Anna, Elsa and her mother, and she had only reluctantly included her mother in that number because of Raven's ongoing headaches and muscle spasms. BECA had reassured Clarke that Raven would recover fully, but the degree of control ALIE had imposed upon Raven—and the fury with which Raven had fought back— had temporarily overwhelmed the neuromuscular junctions in the fierce woman's body and damaged many of the skeletal muscles in her body. She would recover, Abby reassured them, but she needed to rest and recuperate, and that meant no working with high explosives or anything requiring a delicate touch.

Octavia nodded. "Yeah, being able to hit them with a bomb or some grenades would've be nice."

"No doubt," Clarke echoed, nodding.

—O—

"So this is it," Clarke said, her voice with a hint of resignation but otherwise carefully neutral as she and Lexa looked out over the large plain below the plateau. The sun was low in the sky, and very soon dusk would be upon them, followed by night.

And then war would come with the dawn.

Lexa nodded. "This is where I had hoped to engage Nia's forces. I was afraid that with the speed of her advance over the last three weeks, she could have pushed past this valley and engaged us closer to Polis, where the terrain would have been much more difficult to plan for."

Clarke looked out at the small valley below them, bounded both left and right by mountain ridges. It was lower than the rise they were currently atop, but not by much. The grass was short and scrubby on the plain below, with very little in the way of larger vegetation. No rivers or streams were visible, but there was likely some runoff on at least one of the ridges, a creek or something similar, as the ground cover had some hints of green among the wheat-brown color of most of the grasses.

Clarke took a deep breath and sighed, exhaling slowly. "I've been thinking about what we discussed about last night," she said. "What you and me and Anna and Elsa talked about after the planning session ended."

Lexa turned to look at her _houmon_. "About Nia's magic?"

Clarke nodded. "The more I think about this, the more I think it's right. It just _feels_ right, you know?"

"Feel is a vital component of magic," said a familiar voice behind them.

Lexa and Clarke turned to see Elsa and Anna drawing near, the two of them seated atop one of their crystalline white horses, Elsa in front, Anna behind, as they approached at a gentle pace. The two of them both had pleasant smiles on their faces, as if they weren't hours away from what was going to be a brutal, violent battle that would leave the floor of the valley below dark for weeks to come.

"Anna and I have also been discussing your thoughts on Nia's magic," Elsa said as she brought the horse to a stop beside Lexa and Clarke. The two flesh-and-blood steeds nickered softly at the new arrival, who flicked his ears and whinnied softly in reply. "While I can't definitively say your theory's correct, it absolutely makes sense."

Anna leaned to the side slightly to better peer around Elsa's shoulder. " _I_ think you're absolutely right, and at the very least, it's worth a try," the redhead said, her copper hair hanging behind her in twin braids that swayed with the movement of her head. "I wish I could remember exactly what Maleficent said, though."

"I remember it clearly," Clarke said. "I guess it's because all the magic stuff was so new to me that it stuck in my mind, but she definitely said that the ritual the sorcerer or sorceress used to bring Nia back and give her magic was powered by the faith of her followers."

"And if that is true, weakening their faith in Nia should weaken her power," Lexa finished. "It certainly wouldn't hurt, demoralizing her troops during battle at the very least. But I don't want to risk your life, Clarke."

Clarke reached over and took Lexa's right hand. "Lexa, all our lives are at risk every day."

"You know what I mean, _ai hodnes_ ," Lexa said with a sigh. Were Clarke to take the field of battle, Nia would throw every single Azgeda warrior at her. Of that, Lexa was entirely certain.

Clarke nodded. "Yeah, I do, but you yourself told me that Wanheda has power. The _idea_ of Wanheda has power." She smiled. "And what better use of that power that to put an end to Nia for good?"

Lexa smiled sadly. One of the qualities that made her an excellent Heda was the ability to know which battles needed to be fought, which battles needed to be won and which battles were lost before they began.

She knew which category this fell into.

Lexa looked into Clarke's blue eyes, so intent, so bright. "What are you thinking, my wife?"

—O—

Two hours after night fell, Anna stood atop the hill where the Coalition had assembled, watching the flickering of hundreds of campfires burning on the other side of the valley. She estimated the Azgeda numbers to be over ten thousand, all determined to kill her, Elsa and their allies.

She didn't like them very much.

And somewhere among those campfires would be Nia, who _should_ be dead and certainly _shouldn't_ have a dark copy of Elsa's powers, along with the gods-damned sorcerer who was to blame for this whole avalanche-in-the-middle-of-the-night of a mess.

She liked that sorcerer even less.

And when the time came, she was willing to leave Nia to Lexa and Clarke, but the sorcerer...

The sorcerer was going to die. And Anna was going to kill him. Or her.

It would be too risky for Elsa to try to do it, not here, not with her powers weakened. Not with their youngest child inside her, even if the sorcerer was also weakened by the increased difficulty of channeling magic here. Anna's own magic items worked just fine. A test again shortly before dusk had confirmed that. So likely any enchantments or magical artifacts the sorcerer had carried across worlds would also be as powerful as before. Especially that detestable, evil book.

Maleficent had warned Elsa, Anna, Clarke and Lexa not to touch the book directly if possible. She had also said that True Love's power would insulate the four of them against the book's corrupting nature, at least for a time, and that no one other than the four of them should carry the book once it was finally recovered, and even then it must be kept contained in a shell of Elsa's ice at all times until it could be returned to Arendelle, where Maleficent and Rose could once again work at containing it until they could discover the Codex's "polar opposite," whatever that may be, and destroy it forever.

The soft feel of arms slowly encircling her chest brought Anna out of her dark thoughts, making a smile of happiness spread across her freckled face.

"What are you pondering, my heart?" Elsa asked tenderly, her breath warm on Anna's right ear as she placed a light kiss on that spot. "You're thinking heavy thoughts."

Anna smiled, even though Elsa couldn't see it from her position. "What gave me away?" she asked softly.

"The fact that you're standing quietly by yourself," replied Elsa, more than a bit smugly.

"Ouch," Anna replied playfully. "Just thinking about tomorrow. And worried that Nia's going to try something tonight."

"You've seen the guard positions yourself, Anna. And even though my range with talking to the frost and snow here is limited, it will at least give us some warning if others are drawing close."

Anna sighed once, and even now, the soft frustration in that simple noise still make Elsa's heart ache slightly. "I just wish we could get this over with," Anna finally said.

"It's hard to dodge arrows and swords in the dark," Elsa said. "And the light your weapons give off would make you the best target on the entire battlefield, my heart."

Anna slowly turned in Elsa's grasp, because careful not to tug on anything of Elsa's. "I'd fight all of them for you," Anna said, staring into Elsa's bright blue eyes.

Elsa's smile nearly glowed on its own. "I know you would," she said simply. "I wish it was as simple as that." She hesitated before adding, "I wish that I could do more here."

"Elsa," Anna said patiently. "You _are_ doing something important here. You're going to counter Nia's dark magic. And you're protecting our youngest child."

Elsa looked into Anna's eyes, a dark blue nearly the same as her own in this dim lighting, with only the barest hint of green visible currently. Not once had Elsa talked to Anna about how she was going to combat Nia's magic—mainly because she wasn't entirely sure herself. But she had several possible approaches, she had the ear of the cold itself, and between her experience and connection to the cold, she _was_ going to find a way to neutralize Nia's greatest weapon.

And the utter confidence in Anna's eyes both empowered and awed Elsa at that moment.

There was no doubt in them. No second-guessing, no hesitation. Anna BELIEVED Elsa was going to defeat Nia's magic, with everything she had.

And Elsa would never let Anna down again.

"Let's go to bed," Anna said. "Tomorrow will be here soon enough, and I want to spend tonight with you."

Elsa felt her pace of her heart pick up, even skipping a tiny beat with excitement, at that statement from the woman she loved completely. "I can't think of anything better," she said happily.

—O—

"I don't know what to do, Harp," Monroe said, her voice strained with emotion.

The two of them lay in their tent, larger than most of the others and occupied only by the two of them, another silent sign of respect for _Jusdonosir_ and her chosen mate. Harper held Monroe mostly atop her, the petite redhead clinging to Harper's slightly longer body desperately.

"What does your heart tell you to do, Zoe?" Harper asked softly, her lips gently pressing against Harper's left ear.

"My heart tells me to go with you," Monroe said, her voice an unlikely combination of a whisper and a moan. "To watch your back. But I can't pick up a gun again. I can't." She swallowed against her raw throat. "Just thinking about aiming a rifle at someone, at pulling the—" She shivered as the words left her.

"Then you don't have to, babe," Harper said softly. "I know you don't want to kill anyone ever again. And I respect you for that. That's why I think it'd be best if you stayed back here, to help watch the battle and coordinate things until the wounded start coming in. Because as good as you've gotten with a bow and arrow and a knife, none of us from the Ark are as good as people who literally grew up fighting with swords and spears."

"Octavia is."

"Octavia is... Octavia. Even though she was born in space, she's always belonged on the Ground. She's one of them, and she fights like it." Harper lifted her left hand to gently cover Monroe's right cheek. "You have nothing to prove to me, Zoe, or to anyone else," Harper said firmly. "What happened that horrible night is done. It's in the past." Harper smiled as she looked into what she could see of Monroe's eyes in the darkness of their tent. "Leave it in the past. Because what we have is now, and what's to come. And that's all ours."

It grew quiet in the small tent, and for several minutes neither of the two young women spoke. When Harper felt her lover's chest tense and expand as Monroe drew in breath to speak, she already knew what the redhead was going to say, and it made her body flush with relief.

"I... I'm going to stay back here and work medical," Monroe said, her speech hesitant but finally confident.

Harper kissed her partner first on the forehead, then on her lips. "I'm proud of you," the blonde said warmly. "But then I would've been proud of you whichever choice you made."

—O—

Weakly lit by the light of the nearby campfire, Echo stood between the six Azgeda who had been assigned to her and the small crevice that served as the entrance to the underground passage. Out of consideration for any Coalition surveillance, they had stayed away from the small entrance to the passage through the mountainous ridge that loomed over them until dark.

"It will be our job to slip through this underground passage, using as little light as possible, slay any guards who might be present, and clear the way for the larger force that'll be following us," Echo said, looking around at each of the Azgeda who had been assigned to her. "We'll have to work quickly. Sound travels better than expected through the tunnel due to the rock reflecting voices. Once we've secured the exit on their side, then we can either wait for the full strike force to arrive or proceed toward their camp and identify targets of opportunity including, hopefully, Lexa's little bitch."

Nia had made it explicitly clear to Echo that Clarke was the primary target for this strike force, fifty strong. She was to be taken alive if possible, but if not, the Skai princess was to be slain brutally and savagely, leaving Lexa a visceral reminder, preferably in multiple pieces, of exactly what love had to offer in the end.

The hardened Azgeda warriors nodded at her words. A talkative group they were not. Smaller than usual for Azgeda warriors, the five men and three women that Echo was leading had been chosen for their small size, their stealth and their utter lack of remorse. So despite the second thoughts Echo had been harboring for days, she couldn't let any sign of doubt show at this point.

If Nia had ordered any of them to kill Echo once their job was done, Echo thought grimly, she'd never see or hear the knife coming until it was too late.

"Okay, get some sleep for a few hours, then we'll strike once everyone has had a chance to rest," she said. Their forces had only arrived earlier that day, and with Nia wanting to attack shortly after sunrise tomorrow, there would be precious little time for rest. "Raina, you'll have first watch, in case they've already found the cave and are going to try what we're doing. I'll take second watch after two hours, then Varius will have last watch. After that, we start our approach. The cave has already been explored and marked, but it's still going to take some time for us to traverse."

Nodding without further discussion, the rest of Echo's team of assassins made their way into the small leather shelters to sleep, except for one.

"When does the rest of the strike team join us?" asked Willem, an assassin whose presence had always made Echo's skin crawl. Even now making eye contact with the small, wiry man made her uncomfortable.

"Shortly before sunrise," Echo replied, keeping her voice calm. "Queen Nia wants all of them inside the passage before dawn, to avoid tipping off the enemy, and we're to leave the passage after sunrise, so no torches or lanterns could give us away." She glanced over at the dark-haired man, immediately shifting her eyes away when his gaze flicked up to meet hers.

He had always given Echo the creeps. She hated it, but she also was wise enough to take it for the subconscious warning that it was. Willem had taken to the bloody rituals enacted by the sorcerer Hans with far too much enthusiasm for someone sane, and that had made Echo distrust him even more.

Which is likely which Nia had made sure to put him on her team. Because if she had planted someone with plans to kill her niece, who was now the undisputed heir to Nia's throne should something happen to the Azgeda Queen, Willem would have no trouble carrying out the deed.

With an unwelcome shiver, Echo returned her attention to the small fire in front of them, trying not to think about the next few hours.

—O—

Unlike the young blonde just a few feet away from him, the uneasy silence around them did not bring Willem any discomfort. It took some effort to keep a pleased smirk off his face the longer the silence held, save some soft snoring coming from inside two of the small shelters nearby. Finally, after nearly an hour, Echo shifted her body, standing up slowly.

"I have to relieve myself," the blonde woman said flatly. She felt her heart pick up speed at the displeased look on Willem's face.

"No one is to be left alone," the older man said. "On orders of the Queen."

"I know. I was there. But I have to relieve myself."

Willem looked up at Echo, nonplussed. "Then I'll have to go with you," he said, not bothering to keep a lewd smile from stretching across his face.

Echo felt her face burn with heat, both from fury and embarrassment. "That is not what my aunt meant!" she hissed, keeping her voice low.

"I disagree," replied the man, taking obvious delight in Echo's discomfort. "I'll stay at a reasonable distance," he said, an oily tone to his voice.

Echo was fuming. "No, don't bother," she hissed at him, practically stomping around the fire in front of the man until she was about five meters away from him. Still glaring at him, she untied her pants, pulled them and her underwear down in one quick motion, then squatted while still facing him. She wasn't sure whether she should gag or smirk as she watched delight and surprise battle across the older man's face while she urinated, but she was sure that for once she had seized the control in the uncomfortable dynamic between the two of them.

She defiantly maintained eye contact with Willem the whole time; she wiped with a cloth she had pulled from her pocket, then stood back up, taking her time to pull her underwear back up, then her pants. Now the revulsion she had been suppressing made itself known as she saw a leer spread across his thin lips while she tied her pants once more.

She walked back over toward the repulsive man, taking a glance at the small shelters, which were as still as the night sky.

"That was quite a little show," Willem said, his voice low and tight, a grin huge on his face as he turned to look at the fire as Echo walked behind him. "We've got some time if y—"

The searing pain of a knife's blade violently slashing his throat, trachea, carotid arteries and jugular veins open, nearly decapitating him in the process, abruptly stopped his words, leaving him wetly gasping like a fish plucked from a river. Echo glared at him with disgust as she watched him slowly topple to the side; she partly caught him on the way down, so his body wouldn't impact the ground hard enough to wake anyone inside the shelters. He convulsed weakly a few times as she laid him dying in the dirt, a puddle of blood already forming in the dirt and grass beneath him.

She took one more worried glance at the shelters as she grabbed a small lantern provided by the _Maunon_ Carl Emerson, but still there were no signs of anyone moving inside them. She shivered as she touched the artifact from the place where she had very nearly died, but it was necessary if her desperate plan was going to work. She checked the knife at her belt and the one on her leg, then she hurried to the fissure leading to the underground passageway.

She had chosen the wrong side. She knew that now. She could only hope there might still be time to undo the evil she had helped unleash, and the sore knowledge that it would likely cost Echo her life no longer bothered her.

—O—

Even though Elsa's enchantment kept the bitterness of the cold from causing pain, Clarke could feel the distinct drop in temperature when she exited the large tent she and Lexa had shared into the darkness just before dawn. The sun's rays were already tinting the grey-black sky a soft pink to her right as Clarke felt the chill breeze blow through her blonde hair.

"It's started, hasn't it?" she asked Octavia, who was standing just outside the tent's door, wrapped in a blanket over the coat and thick pants she was wearing.

The raven-haired girl nodded, the expression on her face solemn. "They're already halfway across the valley. They must have started under cover of darkness."

"Where's Lexa?" Clarke asked, zipping up her jacket.

"Already giving last minute directions to the unit captains," Octavia replied, shivering once. "It isn't the best sign that it's already this cold, is it?"

Clarke tried not to think about that too much, with no success. "Are Elsa and Anna awake yet?"

"They're getting ready. I seriously hope she can do something to stop Nia. It's already painfully cold. The ground's going to freeze before much longer."

Clarke glanced at her friend before returning her attention to the tent holding the Arendellan queens. "I have faith in Elsa. It's the rest of us who have to do our parts."

"Yeah, don't take the wrong way, Clarke, but I have more faith in Heda's part of the plan than yours. You're taking a huge risk—"

Clarke spun to face her friend, cutting off Octavia's words. "If I'm right, then we _end_ Nia's magic, not just misdirect it or keep it at bay," she said, more harsh than she intended.

Octavia looked into Clarke's stormy blue eyes for several seconds before she spoke. "And if you're wrong, you're dead."

"Not necessarily."

"But most likely."

"If we don't do something to deal with Nia's magic, then we're all dead anyway. It's just a matter of time. And my plan is the best chance to take that away."

"IF you're right about her power coming from the faith her people have in her."

"Maleficent—that's one of our friends from the other world—was sure of it. She said that the runes we found at the big ritual near Arendelle had been designed to empower her with her followers' faith, as a way of getting around how weak magic was in this world."

"And she was sure of that?"

Clarke frowned at the skepticism she heard in her friend's voice. "Yes, O! And the woman's like over a hundred years old or something! Elsa and Anna said she and her wife were the two best experts on dark magic in their whole world."

A quirky expression flitted across Octavia's face. "Soooo let me get this straight. You hook up with Lexa, and the two of you travel to another world, survive certain death, ride dragons and party with royalty. Your friends Anna and Elsa, who are married to each other, don't age, have ice magic and can fly. "

"Well, they can't fly, I don't think, b—"

"AND Harper and Monroe start fucking, then Monroe comes back after dying from inhaling poison gas that kills everybody who breaths it. And Harper plots and triggers a successful mini-rebellion inside the guards and winds up on the Council. Oh, and she's a fucking _god_ now." A smile kept threatening to break through Octavia's serious expression as she continued, "And now you're telling me that _another_ lesbian couple in this other world are over a hundred years old and sorcerers themselves."

Clarke looked a bit uneasy. "Well, yeah..."

"And I bet they still look hot, too, right?"

"Well, kind of, Rose definitely, although Maleficent is pretty damn scary..."

Octavia looked Clarke intently in the eyes. "So if I ditch Lincoln and start hooking up with a girl, do I get super powers too?"

Clarke was completely dumbfounded. Her mouth was frozen in place partly open, and her expression was so ridiculously UN-Clarke, who normally had all her shit together, that it made Octavia start laughing a bit wildly.

"Fuck off, O," Clarke finally swore playfully, grinning. "That was good."

"You think I was joking?" Octavia asked, schooling her expression back into seriousness for a full second before sputtering again.

The sudden rushing of booted foot and leather creaking broke up the mirth; Clarke and Octavia both turned to see Lexa approaching, her warpaint encompassing her brilliant green eyes.

"Heda," Octavia spoke softly, lowering her head respectfully.

"Hey," Clarke said, smiling as she stepped forward, taking Lexa's right arm with her left. "Is everything ready?"

Lexa nodded. She looked at Clarke carefully for several seconds without speaking, her eyes taking in every aspect of Clarke's face, her lips, her eyes, her brow, her hair.

 _In case she never sees me alive again_ , Clarke thought, and for a brief moment she wanted to cast away all the plans they had ever made and just take Lexa and run, just the two of them.

But that was never a valid option for them, sadly.

" _Ai hodnes,"_ Lexa spoke softly, the words flowing from her lips as she smiled for Clarke.

Clarke smiled. _"Ai hodnes,"_ she replied warmly, lifting her right hand up to gently hold Lexa's cheek, being careful not to smudge her wife's inky warpaint. "I'll come back to you, Lexa," Clarke said tenderly. "I swear."

"The fiercest of Nia's schemes cannot hold a candle to the raging flames of your spirit, my wife. I have faith in you, in your power." Lexa leaned forward and met Clarke's lips for a soft kiss, holding it for two seconds before reluctantly pulling back. "Remember to fly your banner when you finally take the field," she told Clarke. "And let Octavia apply your paint. You still smudge your lines."

Clarke gasped slightly. "I do not!" she replied, only to stop short at the smile on Lexa's face.

"God, you got me too," Clarke groaned, leaning into Lexa, whose arms happily wrapped around Clarke, the hilt of her sword shifting out of the way as the two bodies pressed against each other. "We're about to go to war, and we're joking."

"That is because we are _alive_ , Clarke," Lexa said patiently. "The day will be grim enough. I choose to not let that darkness encroach upon the time I have with you."

"Do you think they're going to turn?" Clarke asked, stepping back enough to look her mate in the eyes once more.

"I do," Lexa replied with a simple nod. "But I am prepared should they choose to fight against us." She ran the fingers of her right hair through Clarke's loose hair. "And yet I have the easy job today. I only have to defeat an army. You have to defeat an _idea_."

"Good thing I'm Wanheda, then, isn't it?" asked Clarke, grinning. "And what you do on the battlefield is a major part of this plan. You have to work your own magic."

Lexa turned and looked out over the dark green plain just below them. "The other Hedas are eager to begin," she said, scanning the arrangement of Nia's forces, nearly ten thousand strong. "It is an excellent day for battle."

"Tell them I said they have to keep you safe," said Clarke. "Our people need you. _I_ need you."

—O—

"Do you want a stack of gauze with each table?" Monroe asked, busy laying out instruments and materials in the large tent that served as a field hospital.

Jackson looked up from examining the legs of one of the metal tables they had been able to salvage from what was left of Mt. Weather. "With each bed," he replied. "We need to be ready for the worst, and you're going to be helping with triage as much as with assisting me in the sterile tent. The healers will take care of the less-serious wounds and injuries, and I drafted a few people to assist them too."

"Trikru?" Monroe asked, curious about whom Jackson, who seemed to have fully recovered from his possession by ALIE, might have chosen to assist them.

"Not exactly," said a voice that was disturbingly familiar to Monroe.

She whirled around.

Bellamy Blake stood looking at her, emotions warring in his eyes and on his face. "Hey, Monroe," he said awkwardly.

Monroe just stared at him, open-mouthed, as her insides threatened to crawl out of her mouth and run away.

"They, uh, said they needed people who could help with transporting the wounded. I volunteered."

Monroe's eyes began to burn before she closed them tightly, forcing herself to remain calm, to keep control of her emotions.

She wasn't the angry woman who had begun to enjoy killing Grounders, not anymore. That woman had died in a cloud of yellow that had burned her airways and lungs with searing agony. And Monroe was happier than anyone that that angry, vicious woman was dead.

"I'm not..." Monroe said, hoarsely. "I'm not who I was. Not anymore."

"No," Bellamy agreed, taking a few tentative steps forward. "You're who you are now, and I'm happy for you. I'm glad you and Harper have each other. You make a solid couple. You take care of each other."

 _You used to take care of me too,_ Monroe thought, _but in a different way, a non-sexual way. Like a brother. Like an uncle. Like the best friend who always had my back in a fight._

In a way, she missed that. But she had let anger and bitterness blind her to the atrocities and murders they had committed. She had told herself _faith_ and _loyalty_ to drown out her conscience crying _murder_.

But that old Monroe had put loyalty to Bellamy ahead of everything else... including Harper, and their then-growing feelings for each other. And those priorities had gotten her killed.

Monroe drew a harsh breath into a tight chest. "She's what I needed. What I NEED."

Bellamy nodded. "You're a hell of a soldier," he said admiringly. "You'll be one hell of a medic, too."

Monroe just stared at him, uncertain how to take what he was saying. He had turned her into a killer. He had gotten her KILLED. But she had gone along with it, every step of the way.

She had chosen to go with him those nights that changed everything. He and Pike had led, and she had willingly followed, against Harper's arguments.

"I'm... I'm messed up, Bellamy," she finally whispered. "But I'm trying my fucking hardest to get better." She glanced down briefly, and when she looked back up, her eyes were hard and cold, despite the wetness around them. "And don't _ever_ call me a soldier again."

—O—

Nia stood on an elevated plateau twelve meters higher than the rest of the valley floor, giving her good visibility of the thousands of warriors gathered on both ends of the low, nearly flat plain that stretched out almost a kilometer ahead of her.

She hadn't started using her powers yet, and already the wind was biting, the temperature dropping. She smiled as she considered that perhaps nature itself was on her side.

"Are you going to initiate the attack, or wait for this Heda to make the first approach?"

She turned to see Hans, red hair as bright as she remembered seeing it in the soft pink of the dawn. "I would prefer to let Lexa grow impatient and commit her forces first, but I don't expect that will happen. She has a surprising amount of patience."

Hans nodded once. "So a brief waiting period, then you'll signal the charge?"

"Yes," Nia said, closing her eyes and lifting her face to the morning sky. She sniffed in the crisp scent of the grass, of the snow that was threatening to begin falling at her merest word.

"Emerson keeps insisting that he gets to kill the Clarke woman," Hans said.

Nia grinned, not bothering to open her eyes. "Let him dream," she replied calmly. "Truth be told, I care not if he kills her. As long as she dies, and I can display her body to Lexa. That will break the great Heda's resolve and end the last resistance to my ascension."

"You're already a queen," Hans asked, keeping his voice neutral. "What remains? Empress, perhaps?"

Now Nia opened her eyes. She could hear the whispers coming from the sinister tome barely contained in the canvas pack strapped to Hans's back. The hissing whispers had grown louder every night, rising in volume with the extent of her own power. The book was hungry for a new master.

"Aren't you the one who keeps reminding me not to grow too arrogant, Prince Hans?" Nia asked sweetly. "Let's deal with the force set out before us today. Then we can discuss how we'll carve up this world, and then your world after that."

Not waiting for a reply, she lifted her arms to her side and began commanding the cold to unleash a wintry hell upon the forces of the Coalition.

—O—

"She's starting," Elsa said, turning to look at Lexa and Anna, both of whom were mounted on their horses, Lexa atop a jet black stallion, Anna atop her shimmering ice steed.

"Go do your thing," Anna said, smiling at Elsa.

Elsa nodded. "I love you," she said with a smile.

"Love you too," Anna replied; as soon as the words were spoken, Elsa turned and practically ran in the direction of the raised knob where she had decided to work, set off to the side of the Coalition's main camp. The field hospital tents had been set up on the opposite side, in case the cold threatened to run wild around Elsa during the mystical struggle.

"Time for us to take our positions?" asked Anna, turning to Lexa.

"Yes," Lexa replied simply, nudging her horse forward, with Anna doing the same to keep pace as they began to ride at a controlled pace toward the warriors assembled before them, just over eight thousand Coalition warriors and twenty Skaikru guards.

—O—

Fat flakes of snow began to coalesce and fall, tumbling eagerly toward the ground as Elsa reached the modest summit of the raised mound of earth. She turned to face the forces arrayed across the green valley below, grimacing.

The cold was unhappy, howling its displeasure at being ordered by one so petty and contemptible as the pretender across the valley, but it was unable to resist her corrupt power.

"She's been cruel to you, I know," Elsa spoke tenderly as she closed her eyes and raised her arms to her sides. "And you don't have as strong a connection to me here as we're used to. But all the might in the world is worthless if it can't be applied to the proper target." Elsa smiled as she felt the cold around her begin to sing, silent to the ear but a joyous symphony to her mystic senses. "And today we'll teach the false ice queen a new tune, won't we?"

—O—

Hans watched as large flakes of snow began to fall. They would quickly multiply, followed by the winds beginning to howl, and then be joined by pelting sleet and hail. Such was the way Nia always began the battles he had watched over the last month, debilitating any opposing forces even before the first blade bit into human flesh. Properly garbed and accustomed to fighting in arctic conditions, the Azgeda had made short work of their sodden, freezing enemies in every battle over the last few weeks.

So when the temperature did not plunge below freezing and the large flakes of snow remained the only visible manifestation of winter several minutes into Nia's magical working, Hans puckered his lips slightly in confusion. "Pausing for dramatic effect, Queen Nia?" he asked sardonically.

A snarl crossed Nia's face as she channeled her tainted magic, pouring her will and rising anger into the suddenly reluctant winter weather.

—O—

Across the valley, Elsa felt the force that was pushing against her and the cold stiffen and surge. Smiling, she resisted the impulse to oppose it directly and instead deftly redirected the pulse of power, splitting it and sending it to both sides of the valley, to spend its sodden fury on the mountains ringing the valley and not on the people down below.

—O—

As Nia watched the sleet and snow burst forth in a deluge of white precipitation high atop the mountains to either side of the valley, she ground her teeth out of sheer fury.

It was taking most of Hans' self-control to keep from laughing outright, both at Nia's sudden ineptness with her powers and with the near-comical level of frustration she was exhibiting at her clumsy efforts. "Perhaps we should start the attack," he offered. "It seems they've developed some sort of countermeasure against your powers."

"Likely some of the damned _technology_ Lexa has sold her soul for," Nia spat, turning the unfamiliar word into profanity with her tone of voice.

"Well, we still outnumber them one-and-a-half to one. And your people are the fiercest warriors among the Clans, correct?"

The sorcerer was right on that, at least, even if Nia could hear the taunt in his voice. _Soon._ "We survive in the cold and icy wastes. We fight to live each day. The other clans are capable fighters, but not the equal of Azgeda."

—O—

Lexa looked rather dubiously at the radio in her hand. She supposed it to be a bit ironic that even though she carried technology a century more advanced nestled against her brainstem, she was still the slightest bit apprehensive about anything she had seen the _Maunon_ use.

But the _Maunon_ were no more, and that was due to the woman Lexa loved, so she supposed any evil the bits of metal and plastic in her hand might have once held had been exorcised by the surge of radiation in which Wanheda had been born.

So what more fitting use for this device could there be, she surmised, allowing a confident smirk to flit across her face as she pressed the button that would carry her voice to the other radios carried by the Skaikru gunners spread throughout the Coalition army in the valley below.

" _Kongeda_ warriors!" she said forcefully, holding the radio away from her head as Clarke had helped her learn when they had practiced the previous day. Her voice would carry well enough for nearly all of her forces to hear her words, but the plan she and Clarke had devised needed the Azgeda to hear her words as well. Thus, the radios, which amplified Heda's speech at multiple points along the front lines of the Coalition forces, and her holding it away from her mouth so as not to be _too_ loud during her transmission.

"Today, we will end the treachery of Nia, the one who has twisted an entire clan against their brothers and sisters! The one who has cheated death and made a mockery of honor! On this day, we will end the reign of this traitorous queen permanently!

"You have heard that Nia wields magic." Lexa paused. "I do not dispute that, as only the darkest of forces could bring the dead back to life, and the tales of the atrocities that have been committed in her name and for her 'magic' over the last two moons should sicken even the strongest of us."

The silence that enveloped the entire valley was absolute once the echoes of Lexa's voice faded, even on the far side, where Nia and Hans stood, Lexa's voice faintly reaching them.

Lexa took in a breath before she continued, allowing a hint of anger into her voice, the steel of command infusing her words now. "But we have magic of our own!" she cried. "We have WANHEDA!"

The shouts that erupted throughout the Coalition forces made the mountains themselves tremble, the enduring stone enclosing the valley reflecting the cries and cheers again and again.

Lexa let them cheer for several seconds, resuming before the cries could fade. "The army that fights with Wanheda cannot be defeated! Death herself is on our side today, and when confronted with Wanheda's power, Nia's magic WILL fall short!"

—O—

As Lexa handed the radio back to Nathan Miller, she smiled, then she set her horse gently into motion, making her way down the inclined slope to the thousands of Coalition warriors who would follow her into any hell their Heda chose to challenge.

And across the open brown expanse shot with patches of green between the two armies—which still remained free from any wintry accumulation—the seeds of doubt began to take root in the Azgeda.

—O—

"Superstition," Nia said, her voice lower than she had hoped. The audacious girl Clarke was clever, and Lexa had always been dangerously cunning, but the Skai girl no more wielded magic than the sun rose from the west and set in the east. Wanheda was a superstition, no more. "A weak attempt at intimidation before battle." She sniffed. "I'm not so foolish as to fall for that."

Behind and beside her, Hans remained silent. _It's not you that has to fall for it_ , he thought quietly. And his concern about this "Heda," along with his estimation of her abilities, crept up significantly.

—O—

By the time Lexa and Anna had reached the front of the Coalition forces, the front lines of Nia's army had begun to walk forward, starting to close the gap of open field between the two armies.

"Begin slow advance," Lexa said firmly. "Patience. Discipline."

Heeding her words, the first units began to advance. The front line units were heavy on spears and pikes, split into twenty platoons of thirty warriors each, most of which included one Skaikru gunner. Many of them carried large shields, some made of wood reinforced with iron bands, others made of hammered metal, which they had learned to use as the Greek hoplites and Roman legions had millennia ago. For most combat, the Grounders eschewed such devices as shields, but when faced with the prospect of a barrage of arrows, it would have been foolish to not take proper precautions... and Lexa did not suffer fools under her command.

Behind the shield units were the bulk of the Coalition infantry, most of whom carried spears and swords, but there were many others who chose to carry more esoteric weapons, ranging from massive warhammers to thick wooden staves to daggers and clubs. They were likewise split into platoons, arranged so that they stood in line with the gaps between the front line units. Only a small portion of the infantry was in this second line, however, as the rest of the units on foot were currently kept slightly back, behind the archers and cavalry, so fresh warriors could be brought forth within moments to relieve the forward units, while the Skaikru gunners would simply fall back into the middle of a new platoon as it joined the fray and relieved the previous squad.

The cavalry was spaced out widely, to not give any indication of their plans. There were well over four hundred of them, men and women both on fighting horses, most of them with battlefield experience. Lexa was fond of lightning-swift cavalry strikes during battle, and they were prepared to form up on their Heda and mount a charge whenever she gave the signal.

As Lexa watched across the steadily shrinking field of brown and green between her and Nia's front lines, she began to perceive details about the troops approaching her. Flashes of green on arms and legs, indicating the Broadleaf clan. Blue streaks of war paint on faces and neck, for the Blue Cliff tribes. The bald heads of the Glowing Forest clan. Most tellingly, no sign of the furs or blood-red warpaint favored by the Azgeda.

"As I expected," Lexa said softly to Anna, whose icy steed kept a steady, measured pace beside Lexa's. "Nia has filled her front lines with those clans she has forced into serving her."

"She's a real winner, huh?" Anna asked offhandedly.

"She already considered herself better than everyone else before she returned from the dead. Now I imagine her megalomania is absolute."

The sound of a man's shout, controlled but firm, drew their attention back toward the other lines, which haltingly stopped advancing at the noise.

Anna gave Lexa a curious look, receiving only a calm expression in reply.

Across the roughly seventy meters that remained between them and the other army, Lexa and Anna watched as a weathered man with long white hair stepped forward from the middle of Nia's front lines. He carried a simple spear, wore only a makeshift vest that appeared to be made of beads strung over leather straps, soft brown pants and simple leather shoes. He patiently began to walk toward the two mounted women, unaccompanied by anyone else.

Lexa turned to look at Anna, whose face was clearly curious. With a gentle nudge from her heels, Lexa eased her ebony horse forward at a slow lope; only a second later, Anna did the same.

The three of them met in the middle of the open ground that stretched across the valley, both the mounted women and the older man stopping roughly five meters apart.

"Bent Trees," Lexa spoke calmly, nodding her head slowly in respect.

"Heda," the Broadleaf clan chief replied, nodding deeply and holding it for several seconds before lifting his chin to meet Lexa's bright gaze.

"I have fulfilled my part of the bargain," Lexa spoke clearly, raising her voice just enough to be heard through the front lines. "Your people and all those held captive have been freed."

There was a pause for several seconds as Bent Trees closed his eyes and breathed deeply for several seconds. "Forgive an old man for doubting, but... do you have proof of this?" he asked, his voice wavering slightly.

Lexa reached inside her leather coat, pulling out a small bundle wrapped into a soft white cloth. She tossed it to him underhanded, slow enough for him to easily catch.

The older man's hands shook visibly as he carefully unwrapped the package, unfolding the cloth to reveal trinkets he recognized from his grandchildren and a rolled-up paper threaded through a simple silver ring. Tears began to fall as he gently removed the paper from his wife's ring, unrolling it and reading the note she had written him.

—O—

"What are they doing?" hissed Nia, growing increasingly bitter as the cold simply refused to unleash its wrath on the Coalition like she demanded. It seemed to be spraying sleet and snow all around the valley, coating the mountains with inches of wet precipitation, but she could _not_ get the snow and sleet focused on the opposing army.

It was pissing her off.

Hans frowned. The small meeting at the front lines was quite far away, and the early morning light was still dim from the sun just beginning to rise over the mountain to his left; as a result, all he could see was that the two meeting with the white-haired man on foot were astride horses, and all three of them appeared to be in no hurry. "My guess would be negotiating a surrender. Or a defection."

Nia growled audibly, dropping her arms and forgetting the suddenly willful storm for a moment. She stared at the small gathering half a kilometer away for several seconds before her mind cleared and the man's white hair reminded her who was willful and stubborn enough to defy her orders and risk death in the process. "Archer!" she snapped, angry at herself for ordering him to the front lines with the rest of his reluctant clan.

The two archers positioned ahead of her turned and looked at her.

"Kill the old man," she sneered. "He's been resistant from the start."

The archers looked at each other before the one on Nia's left nodded. He withdrew an oily black arrow from a small quiver on a stand beside him, handling it with a gloved hand as he nocked it to his bowstring.

Hans had enchanted a few arrows with dark magic, adding to their range and accuracy as well as imbuing the wood itself with a deadly poison that ate away at tissue and organs alike once it struck its target. The drain involved in creating them was extreme, even with sacrifices, so he had only been able to enchant less than half a dozen of them out of fear of weakening himself so much that he wouldn't be able to defend himself should Nia decide she no longer needed his services.

"Why not kill the girl, this Heda?" asked Hans. "It would seem she'd be the ideal target to slay."

Nia turned to look at Hans. "I wouldn't put it past her to see the arrow coming were it aimed at her. She has some power from her Nightblood that has always been kept secret from everyone else. That's how she was able to defeat that fool Roan in combat despite him being twice her size." She smiled cruelly before adding, "And I want to see her face break when she sees her precious little Skai girl dead before her."

She turned her attention back to the archer, standing ready. "Kill the old man," she said again. "Show his people what I do to traitors." She turned to Hans. "Ready yourself for battle, Prince Hans. The Coalition falls today."

With a curt nod, Hans turned and began walking toward his tent and his gear. And strapped across his back, as bloodshed, suffering and death loomed large, the Codex began to shiver with morbid glee.

—O—

 **Author's Afterword:** I had considered trying to get the whole battle into one massive chapter, but I think that would take ANOTHER two or three months. You've waited long enough. So here's the first part of the battle now, with the rest in the next chapter to come. That chapter should come pretty quickly, as I'm already well into writing it.

Thanks for reading, and I'll see you with the next chapter!


	16. Ch 16: Moments of Criticality

**Author's Note:** Okay, a brief word of warning. There are a LOT of viewpoint and perspective shifts in this chapter. They're necessary to convey all the stories that are weaving and interlacing here. Take your time as you read. Each shift should quickly indicate which character's viewpoint goes with each section, but if there are any issues with a section not being immediately discernible as to its subject/perspective, please let me know so I can tweak for clarification. There's also some gruesomeness and some very personal violence. It's not excessive, and I don't dwell on it, but it's there. This is war, and it's not pretty.

Cover Art for the story is from the LexaRecovery tumblr. Stay strong together.

 _I do not own the television show "The 100" or make any claims upon it or its characters. Similarly, I do not own Frozen, its characters or any Disney characters or property. All these characters are used under the concept of Fair Use, and I make no profit or income from using any of them._

 **Our Fight Is Not Over**

by Jo K.

Chapter 16: Moments of Criticality

 _You're as safe as a mountain_

 _But know that I am dynamite_

-Sigrid, "Dynamite" (acoustic version)

—O—

—O—

Bent Trees wept softly as he finished the brief note his _houmon_ of nearly forty years had written him. She was alive, and she was safe, along with their grandchildren. That meant the other hostages would be safe as well... and that his Heda had done the impossible.

He lifted his head, wiping his tears with his fingers as he did so. "You have fulfilled your promise," he said, looking at Heda. "Now we will honor ours as well."

"I take it John Murphy decided to talk to you after all," Lexa said smugly.

Bent Trees nodded once. "He did," he softly spoke, not bothering to elucidate. The weathered man never had been much for talking, a quality Lexa admired greatly.

"I was uncertain what path he would choose," admitted Lexa. She looked at the wizened Broadleaf leader and smiled proudly. "But I am most glad that he chose the way he did."

—O—

Neither Bent Trees nor Lexa saw the enchanted ebony arrow reach the top of its arcing flight path, tilting downward as gravity exerted its hold on the missile and dark magic continued to guide its path. It fell silently, slowly twisting as the chill air flowed across the jet feathers fletching the arrow, inducing a spiraling motion that stabilized the arrow's flight as it fell unerringly toward its target's unprotected back.

Until it struck a shining white shield and evaporated in a hissing, smoky black haze.

—O—

Astride her glittering horse, Anna turned to look behind her at the older man on the ground below, her left arm still raised and her shield still proudly aglow, burning away the last remnants of oily smoke left from the poisoned arrow.

"That arrow had dark magic in it," she declared flatly. "The cold was screaming to me about it while it was in the air."

Lexa's face grew stern once more. She looked down at Bent Trees while Anna scrutinized the sky for any other missiles that might come their way. "I have told my forces that any who lay down their weapons are to be unharmed. You and any others who disarm will be guided to a staging area off to the side, to be guarded and kept safe until the fighting is over."

"I understand," Bent Trees replied. "Thank you for your mercy, Heda." He knelt before his true leader, tossing his spear aside as he did so.

Behind him, hundreds more did the same, kneeling as they dropped spears, swords, axes, knives onto the ground around them.

And behind THEM, the forces loyal to Queen Nia shouted with fury and charged.

"Quickly!" Lexa yelled. "Through our lines to safety!"

Bent Knees rose on shaky legs and began jogging forward as scores of other Grounders began to run toward them, trying to avoid being caught between the furious Azgeda and the Coalition army. The twangs of bowstrings being loosed were audible far behind the conscripted warriors as the Azgeda archers unleashed a wave of wooden missiles toward the Coalition forces and the defectors alike.

The magical ice making up Anna's modest crown began to flow down toward her ice mail armor, which in turn began to flow upward; the two swirled around her head and neck, forming a gleaming hauberk of ice mail protecting her neck and throat and a crystal helmet that flowed like viscous water to wrap around her head and most of her face.

"Archers loose!" Lexa cried. "Front lines, attack!"

Without waiting, Lexa kicked her horse forward, drawing her sword as she did so. The front lines of infantry cried out and began to run forward, but they were caught and surpassed by the charging cavalry only seconds later, the horse-mounted riders charging through channels through the infantry units that had been carefully planned and patiently maintained.

The volley of Azgeda arrows finally rained down, claiming the lives of dozens of the fleeing Grounders, none of whom were looking back. The Coalition forces were much better prepared, catching most of the missiles on their thick shields with only a handful of mostly minor injuries from the arrows.

The wave of arrows from the Coalition archers struck the Azgeda warriors seconds before Lexa, Anna and the cavalry troops plowed into them, and the fleeting moment between shielding against the arrows falling from above and trying to brace against a horse-mounted charge proved devastatingly brief. Screams and clashing metal and wood erupted from the melee, brief interjections in the rumbling thunder of a thousand hooves pounding the earth.

Lexa steered the wave of cavalry to the right, cutting a swath through the new Azgeda front lines as she maintained their speed and momentum, claiming the lives of at least four herself as her blade flashed up and down to her right. She led them out of the melee in time for another volley of arrows to strike, claiming dozens more before the charging warriors on foot slammed into the Azgeda forces, battered and disarrayed by the sudden onslaught.

—O—

As the initial minutes of the battle unfolded against them, several of the Azgeda in the middle and rear ranks of Nia's forces risked glancing to the sky. Instead of the dark clouds and falling snow and sleet to which they had become accustomed, they instead saw patches of clouds breaking up the orange glow of morning, with some streams of snow blowing above and around but somehow not falling on the field of battle.

The cries of men and women killing and dying, punctuated by the clashing of metal and flesh and set to the thrumming beat of furious hooves, were audible as well as palpable throughout the Azgeda army, unmitigated by the conspicuously absent howling wind that they had come to expect blowing at their backs, driving them forward as relentlessly as it drove their enemies back.

And while their queen's magic seemed to be faltering, the shouts and cries of the Coalition warriors seemed as fierce and spirited as ever. The Heda herself rode at their vanguard, her face furious beneath her terrifying warpaint as her sword flashed up and down relentlessly. And back at the edge of the battlefield, barely visible atop the small rise marking the Coalition camp, Wanheda herself sat atop a pale ivory horse, watching the onslaught. And while none of the Azgeda would dare speak the thought aloud, many of them had already come to suspect that Wanheda's presence on the other side of the battlefield was behind the sudden loss of their queen's magic.

And for the first time since the dark rebirth of Queen Nia over two months ago, the Azgeda began to truly fear something other than their monarch and her sorcerer.

—O—

Atop the small rise across the valley from Nia and on the opposite side of the Coalition camp from Clarke and her unit, Elsa smiled as she felt the cold bend and sway to her commands. She deftly redirected the freezing precipitation back and forth, channeling the wintry spray to the side, evaporating it before it could reach those fighting in the valley below, pushing the bitter gouts of wind upward instead of downward.

Now that they were this close, Elsa could more directly sense Nia's connection to the cold. It felt harsh, and bitter, and hateful, so much so that it brought tears to Elsa's eyes, knowing that a part of her and Anna and their children was being treated so cruelly.

Rather than try to quell the sorrow inside her, Elsa embraced it, letting crystalline tears of ice drop from her eyes and embracing her chest being wracked with heartfelt sobs. The emotion pulsed through her, enhancing her magic, dampening the ache that had been building between her shoulder blades and through her arms. She channeled that sorrow and the righteous anger that quickly followed into her power, speaking soothing thoughts to the cold and ice, wordlessly conveying that she understood the cruel woman was using them against their will, and that soon enough Anna and their friends would make the pain stop.

Until then, Elsa had to continue to patiently battle a part of herself that had been ripped away from where it belonged while still being as gentle as possible, for it wasn't the cold's fault it had been used in this twisted way.

—O—

For the warriors in the Coalition army, their faith and devotion to their Heda was absolute. Seeing the shock and doubt manifest on the faces of the Azgeda forces as their witch-queen's powers failed to materialize and give them the tactical advantage they had come to expect was a visceral gratification as the two mighty armies clashed on the field of battle.

For weeks, the Azgeda had enjoyed the advantage of fighting in the bitter cold that was familiar to them, of watching their enemies struggle to properly grip their weapons as their muscles shivered and their skin grew raw from frostbite.

Today, it was the absence of that weather granting the other forces the advantage. However, that did not mean that the cold was _entirely_ absent from the battlefield.

Rather than follow the bloody path Lexa's cavalry had carved through the Azgeda's front lines, Anna and her mount had split off to the left, cutting their own path through the Azgeda army, leaving a trail of frozen bodies and ice stained dark red with frozen blood in her wake.

Where Anna's glowing shield struck, heads and limbs froze and shattered as easily as did spears and swords.

Where Anna's flashing ice blade swept, blood flew as flesh and leather and metal alike parted to its razor edge, the droplets of life freezing into dark red jewels of ice that arced through the air.

Where Anna's horse galloped, a field of extreme cold froze those in its path, powerful hooves pulverized muscle and bone caught beneath them and a trail of frost blanketed the ground behind, covering grass and bodies alike in silent testimony to the cold's true masters.

The Azgeda saw these things, and they wondered even more why their Queen did not respond in kind.

—O—

Hans made his way to the rear lines of Nia's forces just outside the main camp, to where his horse and the boy tending to the mount waiting. Hans gave the boy, who looked to be roughly twelve or thirteen, a smile that he hoped was more unsettling than reassuring as he retrieved his sword and belt. (His current squire knew not to touch the weapon after the unfortunate situation with the first boy.) The hilt of the weapon was a dull gray, marked with patches of blackness that looked like char but refused to wear away with use. Its blade, long, slightly tapered and flat, looked much the same, only with the barest hint of red in the jet patches that marred its finish.

The blade was as unholy as Hans himself had become, created with an unspeakable ritual he had discovered within the Vile Codex years ago. Forged with metal taken from defiled holy symbols, fired in a flame fueled by human fat, quenched in the blood of children, it was a gruesome thing that delighted in taking life in a way that the former Prince of the Southern Isles himself could not match. Its power had been strengthened over the years, tied to the evil book itself and drawing sustenance from each life claimed by the Codex's possessor.

"With your Queen's magic proving... unreliable," Hans said to the boy as he buckled the belt around his waist, "I might have to assist in the battle today. Make sure the scouts report to me as well as Queen Nia, so I can stay abreast of the situation."

The boy nodded, hoping that his fervent wish for the sorcerer to die during the fighting wasn't visible on his face.

—O—

As soon as the horse-mounted warriors were clear of an area, the Coalition fighters rushed to engage the disheveled Azgeda front lines. The Skaikru gunners embedded with the Coalition infantry remained out of easy reach of the Azgeda, each gunner guarded by at least one Trikru guard bearing a large shield. When an opening presented itself for a sure, clean shot at an Azgeda fighter, a gunner would take it, almost always removing another Azgeda from the battle.

It was a tactic the Azgeda had no experience with and little defense against, and initially the Coalition forces made swift progress through the Azgeda lines.

Lexa seemed to be everywhere, making herself as visible as possible astride her horse, and when she wasn't ripping her way through opposing fighters, she was loudly mocking Nia, telling the Azgeda how Coldspire had fallen and how their Queen's magic had failed them. She was a specter clad in black, leaving death and blood in her path, and as the Coalition lines began to rotate, the survivors of the first wave of infantry falling back and the second wave advancing to press the attack, the morale of the Azgeda hung by a thread.

—O—

Hans and one of the Azgeda messengers jogged through the back lines of Nia's army, moving toward the middle of their lines. The Coalition forces had penetrated deeply into the Azgeda forces here, with two of the Skaikru gunners killing Azgeda left and right behind a bladed wall of Desert Clan warriors, and they were threatening to isolate a significant amount of Azgeda fighters to the west side of the valley and split the Azgeda forces.

That wouldn't do.

"There!" the messenger said anxiously, jabbing a pointed finger toward the muscular men and women forty meters away, keeping the Azgeda at bay while two others in dark clothes aimed devices that thundered and spat fire toward the Azgeda, causing them to scream and die.

" _Maunon_ weapons, carried by the cowardly _Skaikru_!" gibbered the messenger. "Cursed devices! We have no defense against them!"

Hans grinned. "Oh, but we do," he said, opening his left hand, which hung at his side. He extended his aura of infernal power slightly, enough to capture the nearby pain and anguish of two more Azgeda dying from the strange weapons, as he gathered their pain and turned it into mystic power.

A glowing ball of green-yellow fire appeared in his hand, no bigger than a lemon, hovering in his grasp without actually touching his skin. Smoothly, Hans threw the fiery missile toward the invaders. As soon as it left his hand, it accelerated and shot forward with blazing speed, leaving a chartreuse trail behind it as it slammed squarely into the mass of Coalition fighters. Matching yellow-green flames exploded, coating the Desert Clan and Skaikru alike with lethal flames that rapidly devoured everything but metal and bone.

The smile on Hans' face grew. The drain on him from using such a spell was formidable, but standing in the middle of thousands of men and women suffering and dying, he could draw on the vast anger and pain around him to lessen the strain, and opening himself to that dark spiritual fuel elicited a ghoulish rush that swept through him.

He readjusted the thin leather pack strapped to his back, holding the black book that encouraged him to do more, to slay more, to enhance his power and its power further. But he had listened to that sibilant voice for several years at this point, and he knew better than to overextend himself due to its urgings, for the unholy book would feed on his soul as readily as those of others.

Still... Perhaps a _little_ fun might be permissible.

He turned and looked at the messenger, who looked even more terrified than before, if that were possible. "Show me more of these... Sky-crew."

—O—

Across the valley, Elsa felt the ebbing of Nia's magic through the cold. The powerful current that had been driving the snow and ice toward her had lessened to nearly a trickle at this point. That was a great relief to Elsa, whose ice gown was partially frozen over most of her back from the sweat of her exertions.

She sang patience and relief to the cold, promising that its ordeal was nearly over, and none too soon. The mountains on both sides of the valley were now packed with heavy snow and ice that had been meant to encase the Coalition forces in a wet, frigid death. They sat bearing their snowy burden silently, seemingly proud to have absorbed the frozen deluge Elsa had skillfully redirected.

"Tell Clar— _Wanheda_ that it's working," Elsa said, looking to the Trikru girl who had quietly watched in amazement for the last two hours as the pale, elegant Arendellan had plied her magic; snow, frost and shimmering crystals of ice had formed and flowed around the blonde's arms and body, following her every movement through that time. "Nia's magic is nearly gone. Wanheda and her escorts need to be ready."

With a nod, the slim, boyish girl—Elsa thought she had heard Harper refer to her as Dido—turned and ran back into the Coalition camp, in search of one of the few people as beautiful and terrifying as the fair blonde who could bend snow and ice to her will.

Elsa closed her eyes, letting only the barest bit of her attention continue to direct the channeling of Nia's waning magic away from the battle. She opened her senses, reaching out to feel the brilliant caress of Anna's magic down in the valley below.

The cold continued to surround Anna, acting as weapon and protector alike as Elsa's love wreaked havoc on the Azgeda forces on the west side of the valley. Anna couldn't unleash the full fury of the cold, not within close proximity of friendly forces, but the chill surrounding her and her mount was already freezing flesh on her attackers before the biting of a sword or the crushing of hooves could be numbly registered. Arrows dangled from Anna's clothes, unable to penetrate the ice mail, and jutted at all angles from the snowy body of her steed, but neither of them seemed hindered by the erstwhile missiles.

One of the archers with Nia tried to catch the gleaming white knight unaware with one of the fell arrows, but Anna felt it coming from the moment if left the archer's string, turning and easily blocking it with her shield, which boiled the toxic missile away in another cloud of oily smoke.

She tugged on her horse's reins, stopping him in place as she narrowed her eyes in the direction of the archer shooting those magic arrows.

—O—

"I think it's time to bait the trap," Hans said, lifting his left hand to block the morning sun as he gazed out over the battle. He couldn't see all the way across the field, but it was very obvious that the Azgeda were outmatched. Whomever the fighter was in the gleaming armor on the far side of the battlefield, he was carving a path through the Azgeda to match the one that the brunette Heda girl had gouged through the heart of the Azegda warriors. This Heda had seemed to focus on the east and middle sections of the battle, letting the "rifles," as Carl Emerson had called them, cut a path through the west side, with the mounted warrior sowing chaos and killing isolated Azgeda as opportunity presented... and today opportunity for killing was plentiful.

"Tell the east leaders to pull to the middle. Not all of them, just the ones who were previously notified of the plan." When he looked to see the squire still standing there, Hans scowled and barked, "GO!"

The boy bolted for the nearest mounted messenger.

—O—

As Lexa reached the second lines of the Coalition forces following the latest charge through the Azgeda forces, she tugged on her mount's reins to slow and turn back toward the fighting. When she looked up to survey the field again, she noticed a shift in the forces behind the current skirmish line between the two sides, a line of conflict that had slowly and steadily shifted in the direction of the Azgeda camp.

There seemed to be some momentary confusion, which the Coalition forces were quick to seize and press against, as a significant number of the Azgeda fighters started running to Lexa's left, toward the western flank of the battlefield.

That was where Clarke would be once she made her entrance. Having that side reinforced was unacceptable.

Turning her attention back to her right, the eastern half of the field, Lexa saw gaps in the remaining Azgeda forces, on the edge closest to the mountain. The forces were thinning as they redeployed their warriors, leaving a crucial weakness that Lexa and her cavalry might be able to ride directly into the Azgeda camp itself.

She grinned and called for another charge, sending her horse into motion once more.

—O—

"They're shifting their infantry," Kane said, peering through a set of binoculars. "It looks like they're trying to reinforce where Queen Anna's cutting so deep into their lines."

"Well, let them," Clarke said sardonically. She didn't get a pair of binoculars. And she wasn't pouting about it. Not really. "I still think I could look through them without smudging my warpaint," she said, not turning to direct her words at Octavia, but she didn't really need to.

Octavia lowered her binoculars. She was astride her horse beside Clarke, an escort of twenty mounted Coalition warriors lined up ahead of them, each of them gleefully eager to become part of Wanheda's strike. "God, Clarke. Stop pouting." She lifted her binoculars back up, shifting her gaze toward where Nia stood on the elevated plateau on the opposite side of the valley, much like the one they stood on. "And you'd fuck your warpaint up so badly that I'd have to scrub your whole face and reapply it from the beginning."

Carefully scrutinizing Nia, who appeared livid as she silently shouted and barked something to the Azgeda around her, Octavia laughed softly. "God, she is PISSED," the brunette said happily. "Elsa's got her in a real fit. This crazy plan of yours might actually work. No visible weapons on Nia, either. Looks like that info about her thinking she's too good for ordinary weapons now was right on the money. What an idiot. Like that was _ever_ going to be a good idea."

"What kind of guards does she have around her?" asked Clarke.

"Looks like a half dozen positioned in front of her. Up on the little rise with her, four guys with spears, two archers," replied Octavia. She frowned slightly without lowering the binoculars. "The archers are wearing gloves. That's weird."

Clarke turned to look at Octavia. "What?"

Octavia kept examining the archers stationed in front of Nia. "Archers'll sometimes wear a leather patch over their palm and part of the index and middle fingers, but they generally don't wear gloves. It screws with the way they feel the arrow and bowstring."

"So why would they wear gloves?" asked Clarke.

Octavia lowered the binoculars. "Not sure. Maybe they don't want to get something on their hands? Sap, maybe? Or some kind of resin? Could be newly-cut arrows."

Clarke's gut dropped inside her. "Or poison," she said softly. "Shit. I bet they've got poisoned arrows."

Octavia's head whirled to look at Clarke, whose head itself turned to look at Kane on Clarke's other side. "Who do we have as gunners on this side that aren't currently engaged?" she asked.

Kane grabbed the radio at his belt. "Gunners on the west who can reply, please respond," he said into the device.

" _Nathan Miller reporting. On my way up with what's left of my unit."_

" _Harper here. About to move up with the next change in lines."_

Without waiting for further reply, Kane hit the SEND button on his device. "Nia has two archers among her personal guards. We think they have poisoned arrows. When Clarke makes her move, we need you two to get in range and take out those archers. Get as many of the guards around her as you can, too, but the archers are your main targets. Do you read?"

" _Yes sir!"_

" _Yes sir. You want a particular side, Nathan?"_

" _No diff to me, Harper. You take right, I'll take left?"_

" _Sounds good. Out."_

" _Miller out."_

There was quiet for a few seconds. Kane lifted his binoculars back up to peer at some movement among the Azgeda forces farther back in their deployment.

"Why don't you just have them shoot Nia, too?" Octavia finally asked.

Clarke turned to look at her friend again. "Number one, we don't know if bullets will hurt her. Elsa was shot at point-blank range, remember, and even weakened, her magic shattered the bullet before it could hit anything vital."

Octavia tilted her head slightly. "Yeah, good point."

"Number two, Nia was already dead once. Like, _dead_ dead. And she came back from that. Number three, the whole point of this, what _we're_ doing, is to fight her on an entirely different plane than the physical. Bullets won't get that done. But Wanheda can."

Octavia nodded, returning her attention to the battle.

"And number four," added Clarke softly, "she hurt Lexa. Years ago. And I want to make her pay for that."

"Yeah," Octavia replied softly. "There's another reason, you know."

"What's that?"

Octavia turned to meet Clarke's curious eyes, islands of white and crystal blue amidst the black feathers of Wanheda's warpaint. "She cheated death. That means she cheated _you_ , Clarke." Seeing the look of confusion on Clarke's face, Octavia smiled. "You're _Wanheda_ , Clarke. The Commander of Death. So it's time for Death to reclaim what's hers."

—O—

Lexa cried out, her voice a roar, as she thundered her horse through the over-extended lines of Azgeda. It only took a moment, the slightest bit of resistance, before she was through the surprisingly narrow Azgeda line, in nearly empty space as she and her cavalry rushed forward toward the few Azgeda troops left between them and the enemy camp. And once there, she could charge Nia directly and keep Clarke from having to enter the fray.

But as she drove her cavalry forward, a burning began to manifest in the back of Lexa's mind, in the thoughts she shared with the previous Hedas. Events and occurrences tried to fall into place, to mentally arrange themselves into the solution of a puzzle she wasn't even fully aware of as her own memories and those of the other stored in the Commander's Flame jangled with alarm deep inside her mind.

Something was wrong.

They broken through the enemy lines far too easily. There should have been more Azgeda here, even if they had shifted their forces to the west. No one leaves a flank guarded so lightly.

Mentally cursing her own eagerness, Lexa gritted her teeth and steered her horse hard to the left, trying to turn the charge as quickly as possible and get out of the enemy lines.

—O—

As the lone Azgeda who lay hidden at the base of the eastern mountain watched Heda draw near, he smiled. He quickly touched the oil-soaked cloth wrapped around the end of the unlit torch to the pot of coals he had uncovered when he saw the Azgeda withdrawing from the east.

Instantly the cloth lit with flame, making him smile more. Without hesitation, he turned to the short fuse protruding from the nearest of the large casks, each packed tightly what the damned _Maunon_ Emerson had called "gunpowder," touching the flickering flame to the dry cord, which lit with a hiss.

"For my Queen," he said to himself, grateful he had won the right to strike this blow for the god-woman he followed.

—O—

The blast that erupted from the base of the eastern mountain was so powerful that men, women and horses alike were blown off their feet for hundreds of meters away.

The shockwave of the blast sent Lexa and her horse both into the air, separating them as the roar of the explosion rang through their ears and the impact of the blast tossed them like a vast invisible wave.

—O—

The ground shook nearly half a kilometer away, rattling Clarke's teeth and startling several of the horses briefly. "What the fuck was THAT?!" Clarke swore aloud, turning to look at the plume of brown debris billowing upward from the base of the mountain on the opposite side of the valley. Bodies of humans and horses alike were strewn outward from the blast, which had created a massive crater at the foot of the mountain.

 _Horses,_ Clarke processed.

"Lexa," Clarke gasped as her heart momentarily stopped. "Marcus, do you see Lexa?" Clarke said, barely able to breath as her heart resumed at a frantic pace. "DO YOU SEE HER?!"

"Clarke!" Octavia barked, only to be ignored. Trying to ignore the nausea that had sprouted in her own abdomen, Octavia reached over and grabbed Clarke's left arm. "CLARKE!"

The Clarke that whirled around to look at Octavia was almost unrecognizable. For a brief moment, a handful of seconds, utter despair and wild abandon blazed in Clarke's blue eyes, the color nearly swallowed by the looming black of her wide pupils, nestled in the inky feathered design over her face and forehead.

And then, as Octavia watched, the panic in those eyes was replaced by a cold, hard look that was entirely different. And in that moment, Octavia was truly afraid of the woman staring back at her, because it was decidedly _not_ Clarke Griffin.

It was Wanheda.

"We strike now," Wanheda spoke, a forced calm in her voice that still dripped with anger. She looked over Octavia's shoulder. "Sound the charge!" she yelled to the handful of drummers, then she returned her attention to a suddenly pale Octavia.

"My _houmon_ is alive," the blonde spoke. "And I _will_ find her once this battle has been won. But the battle has to be won first, and she understands that."

And as the large drums began to boom behind them, Wanheda turned and kicked her horse into motion.

—O—

Echo had just emerged from the tight confines of the underground passage when the very ground shook beneath her. It was too much for her aching legs, and she briefly sprawled to the ground, immediately beginning to scramble back to her tingling feet. The other Azgeda were right behind her; despite her head start, they had nearly caught her in the tight cavern, and so even with her eyes barely able to open in the brilliance of the sunlight once more, she turned and began to stumble in the direction of the worn path she could see ahead of her, turning and attempting to run down the inclined roadway toward the valley below. She was nearly out of time, but Wanheda had to be warned about the assassins.

—O—

Bellamy lifted his head up from where he was placing used medical instruments in a basin to be sterilized. Had he finally lost his mind?

Then he heard his name again, faint, like it was coming from somewhere far away.

He walked away from the partially-assembled suture kit and quickly walked out the large tent's door.

Seeing the motion, Monroe lifted her head from where she had just finished applying bandages to a deep leg wound one of the Coalition warriors had suffered. "Bellamy?" she said, trying to get his attention, but he was looking off into the distance and didn't seem to respond.

Great. If he wandered off, he'd get killed.

"I'll be right back," she said to the young boy helping her, handing him the gauze and iodine. "Clean the other cuts, like I did." When he nodded, she smiled, turned and hurried out the door.

She found him standing just outside the door to the medical tent, staring up at one of the mountains, the western peak.

"Bellamy?" she asked, unsure what was going on.

Then she heard it, a voice that sounded like it was coming from far in the distance: _Bellamy Blake,_ faint but audible, coming from the road going up the west mountain they had used to get into the valley.

Bellamy broke into a run, and Monroe was right behind him.

—O—

The only sound Lexa could hear was the oppressive ringing in her ears as she quickly leapt to her feet. A look ahead showed a wave of Azgeda running toward her; apparently they had been far enough away to suffer only minimal damage from the explosion. She scanned the ground around her, darting over to grab her sword, then snatching up another one close to it, taking the new weapon in her left hand.

The ringing began to dampen as her body healed with its unnatural speed, but being able to hear the cries of the charging Azgeda wasn't much of an improvement, in her opinion.

A look around and behind showed that much of her cavalry was in similar shape: rising to their feet, some drawing weapons and preparing for melee, others trying to tend to injured horses or retrieve riderless mounts. The rearmost riders remained on their horses, but it would likely take them several minutes to regain control and bring their mounts back into the fray.

She turned her attention back to the Azgeda so eager to claim her life in battle. And with a cry of her own, she charged directly toward them.

—O—

By the time the first horses in the group surrounding Wanheda hit the level plain of the valley, they were nearly at full speed. Clarke could feel the pounding of the massive drums behind them despite most sounds being drowned out by the thunder of horses' hooves churning at the grassy turf beneath them.

The snapping and popping of Wanheda's banner was evident, however. Stitched together from hundreds of obsidian feathers that refracted light into an iridescent spectrum of colors when examined up close, the shimmering black banner fluttered and flapped atop the long pole that one of the riders to her left proudly held aloft despite them riding at full gallop.

And behind the grim visage of Wanheda, Clarke smiled.

Death was coming. And she was coming for Nia.

—O—

"Cut a path!" Harper yelled over the sounds of metal and leather clashing, of men and women shouting and screaming. "Wanheda's coming! CUT A FUCKING PATH!"

She shouldered her rifle again, squeezing off a shot at a monster of an Azgeda woman just a few meters away from her, then shifting targets as that one began to fall, firing again, then shooting a third Azgeda before the first woman had stopped rolling lifelessly across the ground.

Some distance ahead of them, Harper watched Anna and her sparkling horse slice through the Azgeda's middle ranks in a direction perpendicular to her squad's movement, moving from Harper's left to her right as she cleared out a path ahead of the squad Harper was paired with, leaving a coating of frost and snow over the bodies that fell to the ground in her wake. The Arendellan queen continued her charge across the battlefield, likely on her way to save any Coalition forces she could after that fucking _huge_ explosion had erupted on the other side of the valley.

Awesome. Anna was on it. Nathan's group was farther ahead, so he'd be in range to take his shot any minute. Now Harper and her squad just needed to get close enough to Nia for her to take out the archer that was her target, all before Clarke got in range of their longbows.

Yeah. Easy.

Harper grimaced, shooting another half dozen shots in less than ten seconds, sending another five Azgeda toppling to the bloody ground. "CUT A PATH!" she screamed again.

—O—

If the Azgeda charging Lexa were shocked by their once-Heda charging them in kind, they didn't indicate it.

What DID shock them was Lexa abruptly taking the second sword she had picked up and hurling it at one of the Azgeda with a side-arm motion as they closed; the sudden attack caught the man completely off-guard, allowing the blade to slash into his torso while the hilt smacked the man beside him in the ribs.

Lexa took advantage of that brief confusion, leaping forward and slamming her body mostly into the gap between the two men, dragging the sharp edge of her sword's blade across one's throat as she burst between them, now on the back side of the charging warriors.

She turned and slashed at the closest Azgeda to her left, catching her before she could fully turn; the woman's neck yawned open bloodily as Lexa's blade nearly cleaved her head clean off, and with a blur of motion, Lexa had picked up the dying woman's blade in her left hand, positioning it as a _main gauche_ as she faced the now disheveled warriors who had foolishly chosen to attack her.

There was a brief pause as the Azgeda began to reconsider the wisdom of their tactics, prompting Lexa to smile mirthlessly in return.

And then an enormous rumble began to reverberate overhead, deep and nauseating in its low frequency.

Lexa didn't risk a glance to her left for several seconds, not until all of the Azgeda had turned to look upward, but at that point she did take a quick glance, only to wish she hadn't.

High atop the mountain on the east side of the valley, all of the tightly-packed snow and ice that had been diverted from the battlefield was now churning down toward the valley, a vast avalanche triggered by the blast at the base of the mountain.

—O—

"Oh, snowballs," Elsa swore softly as she watched the deluge of snow and ice begin its white cascade down the steep mountain slope.

In only seconds the avalanche would strike, and from the slope's angle and height plus the sheer amount of precipitation that had accumulated over the last few hours, the resultant wave would likely swallow a third of the battlefield, at least.

Elsa dug her ice flats into the ground beneath her; frost and ice coalesced upward, encasing her legs to just below her knees to provide support. Taking a deep breath, Elsa braced herself and then pushed outward with all her might, throwing her arms forward and bending her upper body nearly parallel to the ground as she unleashed a blast of power like she had never tried to channel in this magic-barren world.

Rather than try to conjure an ice wall large and strong enough to contain the avalanche, the glistening stream of white and silver magic that shot across the face of the eastern slopes instead evaporated the heavy ice and snow as it washed over the falling wave, transforming what would have been lethal, suffocating amounts of snowmass into relatively harmless bunches of soft white flakes as they rolled onto and partly across the valley floor, hitting the helpless Azgeda and Coalition forces alike with all the force of a gentle, cool breeze as the remaining snowflakes swirled around their legs like white dust devils for several seconds before finally settling to the earth.

And on the south end of the valley, the ice supporting her shattered as Elsa blacked out and collapsed, a cushion of snow forming just in time to partially break her fall.

—O—

Hans's observation of the roaring avalanche that had just begun was interrupted by a stinging impact against his chest, followed by the crack of one of those "rifles."

Several more similar reports could be heard firing across the battlefield, but Hans's anger tuned those out as he first glanced down at the black ichor oozing out of the small hole in his left chest, then looked up to find a woman in a navy blue outfit roughly twenty meters away from him, pointing a rifle at him.

Another sting, another report from the weapon, another hole, this time in his abdomen.

Hans bared his teeth in a snarl and conjured another ball of yellow-green fire in his hand, hurling it at the woman and the Grounders battling around her, Coalition and Azgeda alike. All of them vanished in the eruption of green flames around them, the licking tongues of fire casting eerie shadows of red and purple for the seconds they blazed.

The screams were brief but soothing to his ears as he channeled their dying agony into healing his wounds.

—O—

Anna was over halfway across the battlefield when she saw Elsa's magic sweep across the mountain, turning the lethal avalanche into a sparkling dusting of snow. She felt Elsa's surge of exertion followed by her going still; immediately, Anna pulled her horse to a halt while she carefully searched her feelings for any sense of pain or injury to her mate. She ignored the _thunks_ of arrows impacting her shield, which she had lifted to protect her face temporarily, and her armor; the stings she could feel from the impact were minor while she extended her awareness toward her true love, eagerly feeling for any indication that something was wrong other than Elsa overexerting herself and likely passing out temporarily.

Anna wanted to go to her. Absolutely she did. But Elsa was being watched and protected by their friends and allies, and she would be taken care of. And Anna was needed right here, right now.

She had just lowered her shield and looked up when an eruption of yellow-green flame sprang to life ahead of her, just over a hundred meters away. She watched as roughly two dozen men and women vanished, incinerated in a gout of unholy fire.

She hurriedly looked away from them, back toward the Azgeda camp. Standing alone just a short distance away from the green flames, a man spread his arms and threw back his head, and as Anna watched, she could feel a dark power flow from the immolated men and women into the man's form.

With a grim smile, she kicked her horse into motion, steering for the sorcerer.

—O—

As Clarke rode her horse at full speed toward Nia's position, she was amazed at how the battlefield opened ahead of them. Packs of combatants either shifted to one side or split down the middle to gave way to the charging unit, and many of them were still staring at the flag of black feathers with stark fear on their faces as Clarke glanced at them while riding past.

No one stood in their path, not Coalition nor Azgeda. All parted before Wanheda.

Clarke smiled as they closed on Nia's position, already nearly across the battlefield in just minutes.

—O—

Harper abruptly came to a halt from her frantic run forward, shouldering her rifle as the Coalition warriors with her—she seemed to have an escort nearly twice as large as the other gunners, from what she could tell—took up position around her, viciously hacking and swinging at the crowd of Azgeda assaulting them.

She took a few seconds to try and slow her breathing and her heart rate as she aimed at the only standing archer with Nia, the archer she had chosen for her target. He was still nearly three hundred yards away, much farther out than Miller's unit had driven, but this was as far as they could press in time. She hoped Nathan and his unit had managed to pull back safely after he took down his target, but movement from her target wiped all other considerations from her thoughts. The Azgeda archer was drawing an arrow, she could see through her sight, now lifting the bow to take aim.

She breathed out, stopping her breath at the end of her exhale as she estimated the drop of her shot for the distance between them, lined up the vertical component of her gun's crosshairs with his body, then softly squeezed the trigger.

The sharp bark of the rifle only barely registered in her screaming, ringing ears at this point, after going through four clips of ammunition already. She watched as the archer flinched and dropped the arrow but didn't jerk or fall.

Dammit. She had missed. But she was close.

She readjusted, trying to ignore the chaos of fighting death swirling around her, which seemed to be collapsing toward her. She blew out her breath, then fired again.

This time the archer actually ducked, grabbing at his head, but he seemed unhurt.

Screams were now audible around her, but Harper tried to block them out, readjusting her aim, dropping her crosshairs' horizontal line closer to the archer's head as he quickly picked the surprisingly dark arrow off of the ground.

The circle around Harper began to buckle under the relentless onslaught, but Harper made everything else go away as she breathed out, halted her respiration and gently pulled the trigger.

The archer's head exploded in a burst of crimson, and then the bodies began slamming against her, knocking her to the ground.

She tried to roll out of the way, lifting her rifle and shooting an Azgeda woman running toward her, a knife in each hand, but a heavy body was across her right leg, pinning her in place. As the Azgeda screamed and jerked backward, blood flying from the hole through her chest, Harper twisted as best as she could toward the cries coming from behind her.

She couldn't quite bring her gun around to bear on the giant of a man who stormed toward her, and as his right arm shot forward to throw a short axe at her, one of the Coalition fighters, a girl not much older than Harper screamed, "JUSDONISR!" and threw herself in front of the axe.

The dull, wet sound of impact and the cracking of ribs in the girl's chest was painfully audible to Harper's injured ears. The girl fell backward from the forceful blow, landing on her back in front of Harper, the point of the axe's head and its handle jutting out of her chest.

" _Jus... dono... sir_ ," the girl wheezed though her ruptured lung as she looked at Harper, concern for the blonde that last emotion her face would ever show.

Unable to vocalize, Harper just screamed her frustration and twisted her body, feeling something pop in her ribs as she partly freed her leg. She pointed her rifle at the Azgeda man and fired, three times in quick succession, hitting him all three times in the chest and sending him tumbling backward.

Harper gasped and heaved, her body quivering with adrenaline and fury, and with another effort, she finally jerked her leg free.

And she realized that no one around her was moving.

The Coalition warriors remained in battle stances, legs bent, muscles taut, weapons readied as the sounds of battle roared around them, but the Azgeda were no longer attacking. All of them instead were staring at Harper with widened eyes.

Harper pointed her rifle at one, a man who never moved or looked away from her. She twisted toward another, feeling a lance of pain in her left side but ignoring it thanks to the endorphins and adrenaline surging through her body. He, too, never made so much as a twitch in reaction.

She continued to turn and scan, but everyone around her was still, save for a few nervous shuffles and adjustments from the Coalition warriors who yet stood, uneasy in their stillness.

Two of the Azgeda threw down their weapons and dropped to their knees. Moments later, the other followed, the dull, moist _thuds_ and _thumps_ stark to Harper's disbelieving ears.

The sound of approaching thunder interrupted the surreal scene; Harper turned to see a dozen mounted riders barrel past her position, flying a shimmering black flag that looked like it was made entirely of feathers, and in the middle of the pack was the blonde head of Clarke Griffin.

As quickly as they had come, they were past, mud and churned grass falling to the ground in their passing.

"Finish it, Clarke," Harper breathed out, her heart racing and chest pounding.

—O—

" _BELLAMY BLAKE!"_

Echo screamed his name again as she ran down the sloping path, mouth dry and metallic. She could hear the footsteps of the other Azgeda behind her, slowly growing louder. She had caught flashes of movement to both sides, so they were trying to flank her, but the ridges on both sides of her were shielding her from that tactic so far.

She was fast, and she was lighter than most of the others that had been assigned to her unit, but her lungs were burning and her legs were going numb. When she fell, she'd be dead in seconds. But she had to warn them, to tell them about the passage, not only to protect Wanheda but also about how they could cross the battlefield and kill Nia to end this macabre horror story.

—O—

Bellamy heard his name being screamed again, and part of his brain recognized the voice but couldn't identify it yet.

Behind him, Monroe was falling back, her breathing labored and unable to keep up with the frenzied pace with which Bellamy ran. As someone's footfalls caught and passed her, Monroe turned to see Indra, the only survivor of the massacre she had helped perpetrate. The older woman ran with seemingly no effort, back straight, head up, her crippled left arm held to her chest in a sling. The sword hanging at Indra's waist barely moved, the result of the way its scabbard had been affixed to her thick leather belt.

It was all Monroe could do not to stop and gawk. She had known that the dark woman was one of Lexa's generals, but she had never seen her fight, because almost none of the Trikru had raised a hand to defend themselves that grim night, due to Lexa's orders against harming the Skaikru. After that, she had been recuperating from her injuries, among them the near paralysis of her left arm and the shattering of her confidence. But now, she appeared to be ready to fight once more.

Suddenly Monroe was very afraid for Bellamy.

—O—

Echo was about to scream Bellamy's name again when she saw two Trikru men jogging toward her, swords drawn and faces dark with painted designs, and one Skaikru woman wearing a dark shirt and pants and carrying a weapon like the _Maunon_ wielded.

"I must speak to Bellamy Blake!" Echo cried out, not slowing her pace. They were about fifty meters apart and closing quickly when the two men and woman stopped. One man sheathed his sword and unslung a bow from across his back, pulling an arrow from a quiver at his hip, while the Skaikru woman took a knee and raised her forbidden weapon.

"STOP!" one of the Trikru yelled.

"I can't!" Echo yelled back. "They're right behind me! They're trying to kill Wanheda! You have to warn her! You have to—"

It was only a slight stumble, but it was enough. Echo tried to get her legs back under her, but it only succeeded in her taking two long, awkward strides before she fell forward and rolled down the path, a half dozen lightly clothed Azgeda only meters behind her.

Bellamy watched the scene unfold before him, and he surged forward, calling all the speed he could as he ran toward the Trikru guards ahead of him.

The Trikru archer fired his arrow; it shot forward and hit one of the Azgeda in the chest, causing him to skew to the side, falling to his knees as he clutched at the shaft protruding from his ribs. The Skaikru woman fired her gun twice, both shots hitting one of the Azgeda men, then she shifted to aim at a woman closing in on her until an arrow drove itself deeply into her neck, stabbing downward at an angle into her chest and severing her aorta.

Bellamy turned to look up; he spotted the man atop the ridge to his right, still holding his bow in front of him as he admired his shot. The two of them broke their locked gaze with the Azgeda reaching for another arrow and Bellamy diving for the rifle, only to have it kicked to the side out of his grasp, back toward the Coalition camp.

He looked up to see a furious Indra looking down at him, sweat gleaming on her face. She screamed, "If you _touch_ a Skaikru weapon again, _I WILL KILL YOU MYSELF!"_

The next running Azgeda ignored Echo, leaping over her prone figure to engage the existing targets. The Trikru archer's next shot hit home on another target; this time the arrow drove itself deeply into a man's chest, sending him collapsing to the ground before he could reach the exhausted and helpless woman.

The first Azgeda to reach the guards charged Indra, who had already drawn her sword; his off-balance running swipe was easily batted away, which put Indra's own sword in perfect position for her to slide it across his neck as his own momentum cut his throat, sending him sprawling to the ground behind her.

The thunk of an arrow was accompanied by a shout from the Trikru archer. With an arrow embedded in his right shoulder, he tried to turn to aim at the archer positioned above them, but his right arm refused to obey. One of the Azgeda tackled him, sending them rolling across the dirt path as he viciously stabbed the Trikru in the side and gut repeatedly.

The next Azgeda was more skilled; he took a second or two to halt his momentum before striking at Indra. A few thrusts and quick dodges followed as he tried to take advantage of her immobilized left arm, but she kept shifting her position, never letting him press the attack from that side.

Bellamy clambered to his feet, taking several hard steps and driving his shoulder into the next Azgeda to reach them. The move caught the woman off-guard, and the impact of his body into her abdomen was hard enough to force the breath out of her lungs and make her drop her sword. She punched him in the side of the head as she went backwards, but when he drove her into the ground and his weight fell atop her, it stunned her again. Bellamy scrambled off of her, grabbed the sword and turned; as the woman was drawing a knife and rising to her feet, Bellamy slashed the sword through her neck, sending her flopping to the ground.

An arrow just missed Indra as she lunged away from her attacker's next strike; she cursed loudly as she spun, briefly presenting her back to her attacker before she completed her rotation and drove the pommel of her sword into the Azgeda's head, sending him to his knees long enough to decapitate him with a downward swipe. "We must get closer to the ridge!" she shouted at the Skai fool Bellamy. "He'll kill us before we can reach him otherwise!"

Bellamy risked a glance at Echo; seeing the last Azgeda, with the broken shaft of an arrow protruding from his right side, running toward Echo lying exhausted on the ground, he yelled, "NO!" and charged the injured man. With a wild swing of the appropriated sword as the two of them reached Echo at nearly the same time, he made the Azgeda withdraw or risk Bellamy slamming into him as he jumped over the helpless Echo.

The man grinned evilly as Bellamy shifted the grip on his sword, then tested a controlled slash that the man easily avoided by stepping back. Bellamy tried a thrust, but again the Azgeda stepped back, still grinning but not attacking.

Bellamy was trying to determine his plan when a stabbing pain drove into the side of his left leg, sending him to that knee. He groaned as he looked down to see an arrow sticking out of his thigh; he turned back to the Azgeda, who seemed to be in no hurry to close and finish him off, instead walking forward calmly.

Indra was splitting her attention between the remaining two Azgeda on the ground, blocking one while shifting and jumping around the other, trying to keep them both on one side and prevent them from trapping her between them, when the sharp crack of a rifle firing sounded behind her.

A grunt of pain sounded above them; Indra lunged to her left, away from the two Azgeda, as the archer's body slammed into the ground only meters away from the three of them.

Another gunshot, and the Azgeda stalking toward Bellamy stopped his forward progress as a third of his head vanished, replaced by a spray of dark red marked with ivory specks.

Another gunshot, and the Azgeda on Indra's right cried out as the impact of the shot striking his chest knocked him to his knees.

Indra took advantage of the distraction by thrusting forward and driving her sword through her other assailant's abdomen, slashing slightly outward as she jumped back out of reach. Only a moment later, he too went spiraling to the ground, blood trailing from a shot to his chest, as another gunshot split the air.

The Azgeda on his knees fell to the side and began to crawl away, only to be stopped short by Indra driving her sword point-down through his torso until it hit dirt. She quickly jerked the blade back out and assessed the situation.

Bellamy was kneeling over Echo, who was weakly moving her legs. Neither of them had any apparent injuries. The two Trikru and Skai woman were all dead, judging from the lack of movement, as were the Azgeda.

Indra turned to look back toward the Coalition camp.

Kneeling in the dirt, tears running down her face, Monroe held the rifle to her shoulder, smoke rising from the gun's barrel as her chest rose and sank as rapidly as a bird's. With a choked cry, she flung the rifle to her right, sending it clattering away from her as she weakly shifted to where she was on both knees, covered her face with her hands and broke down in convulsing sobs.

—O—

Anna drove deeper into the Azgeda forces, adjusting her approach to come at the sorcerer from just behind him; she knew she was far from any assistance this deep in enemy lines, but it was a risk she was willing to take. She was hoping the chaos of the fighting would keep his attention, and it appeared to be working as she saw him present even more of his back to her and hurl another ball of green fire at a group of warriors locked in combat.

They likewise exploded in hellfire that rapidly consumed them fully, and as the sorcerer drank in their souls, he turned enough for Anna to see his profile, and wide, rich auburn sideburns that seared themselves into her eyes.

An explosion of emotion erupted inside Anna, and as Hans turned to react to the rider he finally heard charging him by diving to the side, Anna saw that he was going to escape her sword's strike.

So she dropped the ice blade and launched _herself_ off of her horse, pulling her feet from the stirrups, turning on the saddle and bracing her boots against her horse's body to launch herself to her right, slamming into him bodily as he hit the ground.

The impact was brutal with him caught between Anna's flying body and the hard ground, and Anna felt and heard several of his bones snap under the force of the impact as her momentum sent her rolling several times across the grassy field.

Hans channeled his newly-stolen magic into healing the agonizing injuries from the unexpected impact; his fractured arm, leg and ribs reknit as his broken back realigned and repaired itself, but the searing agony brought inky tears to his eyes as he focused his fury at the knight in full armor who had knocked him to the ground.

He growled as he conjured and hurled another infernal ball of fire at his attacker, but when the knight batted the fireball away with a glowing white shield, time seemed to stop for a moment as his scattered thoughts strove to come back together, to make sense of what was transpiring before his eyes.

And then the knight reached up with a free hand and pulled off the helmet, to reveal...

"YOU!" Hans shrieked, anger and rage and resentment suddenly boiling white-hot as the long twin red braids spilled out of the helmet to hang down over Anna's chest.

Anna smiled coldly at the furious former prince. "Me," she said calmly, stretching her right arm to the side and opening her hand to let the handle of her sword slide itself back into its master's grasp.

—O—

The lead riders in Clarke's escort reined their horses to skidding halts, leaping off their mounts and readying weapons to deal with Nia's remaining guards. Six of the Azgeda remained on the same level as Clarke and her riders, with another two still in position in front of Nia where she stood atop the raised area ahead of them.

Clarke, however, drove her horse farther than her escorts had planned, going past her dismounted guards before pulling her horse to a similar skidding halt and jumping off, cold fury burning in her face.

The Azgeda guards on her level hesitated when confronted with the feathered warpaint and blonde semi-curls of the woman who was angrily walking toward them, and they were easily cut down by the Coalition fighters, Octavia claiming one of the kills herself. All the while Clarke continued to walk forward, her eyes fixated on Nia and her last two guards; she appeared entirely indifferent to the Azgeda being hacked to death around her as she kept striding toward their reborn queen.

Clarke stomped up the gentle slope, frowning when the last two Azgeda both stood in front of her, visibly shaking all the while, the tips of their drawn swords wobbling like children trying to hold weapons that were too heavy.

"Get out of my way," Clarke growled at them, "or I will kill you and EVERY PERSON YOU LOVE!"

She smiled when the two of them dropped their swords and ran.

Nia's mouth opened and closed silently as she tried to process what was happening, why her powers were failing her, why her army was dying, why this stupid pretender Skai girl was _here_ , not dead in a pool of blood.

Nia's arm shot forward, commanding the cold to obey her and strike down the brazen girl, but the sparkles that formed around her hand were sparse and faint, and the resultant missile of cold that flew forth weakly fluttered toward Clarke, striking her chest and bursting into light snowflakes with all the force of a spring breeze.

Clarke smiled as she barely felt the projectile impact her chest. She had been right, thanks to any gods who might be listening, and she made a mental note to do something nice for Maleficent and Rose if she ever saw them again.

Nia tried again, this time using both arms to attempt to blast Clarke as she done to others many times, but only weak puffs of frost and snow spat forth, just going a few centimeters before feebly evaporating.

"You cheated Death, Nia," Clarke said, reaching down and unbuckling the belt holding her holstered pistol and sheathed sword. She pulled the end of the belt to unhook it, letting the belt fall to the ground as she continued steadily walking toward Nia, her eyes never leaving the Azgeda ruler. She stopped briefly to lift her left leg, pulling a knife from the sheath at her ankle and tossing it to the side before she resumed her patient approach toward the stricken queen.

Nia tried to conjure an ice sword to defend herself, but only a wisp of pale frost appeared briefly before it vanished as well. She looked up, and Clarke was nearly there.

"You owe Death a life," Clarke said calmly.

Nia tried again, panic thrumming through her body, but not even a single crystal of ice formed in her palm.

Clarke was now visibly smiling. "And guess who's collecting?"

Nia looked frantically from side to side, but the swords from her guards were out of reach, and—

She looked back at Clarke just in time to see the woman's fist drive into her face.

—O—

Lexa slid behind her latest attacker, preparing to use her dagger to open his throat when an impact drove into his chest, knocking her slightly back and to her right; at the same time, the crack of a gunshot hit her ears. She looked up, quickly scanning ahead of her until her eyes settled on someone pointing a pistol at her.

Carl Emerson.

Lexa shoved the dying Azgeda forward and broke to her right. Emerson pulled the trigger again, but his second shot clipped the Azgeda's right arm, sending a spurt of blood flying well behind Lexa.

Emerson turned his body, trying to follow the brunette, who was moving inhumanly fast. His next shot still missed, though it was close enough that it clipped off a lock of dark hair. Lexa darted behind another Azgeda, driving her dagger into the muscular woman's back and using her as a living shield to block another shot that hit the Azgeda woman in the shoulder as Lexa closed ground between her and Emerson. Lexa shoved the dying woman forward, feinted to her right, then broke to her left. The movement succeeded in getting Emerson to fire another shot at where he thought Lexa was going, and by the time he had corrected for his mistake, she was in the air and on top of him.

Lexa's body slammed into Emerson at the same time he wrestled the old revolver, which he had found in the remnants of a demolished house along with a few precious bullets, back in her direction; as they fell down, he savagely pulled the trigger.

The revolver fired, the impact from the shot to her chest driving Lexa back, resulting in her awkwardly landing on her feet as her forward momentum was countered by the force of the bullet hitting her. Her legs were momentarily wobbly as Emerson hit the ground, but only for a moment, then she was lunging forward, ignoring the blooming ache in her left chest as she fell on top of him, straddling the man's chest and using her mass to drive the air from his lungs as he pressed the revolver to her side and pulled the trigger repeatedly, only to hear clicking each time.

She held the blade of her sword to his throat, the edge of a weak trickle of blood that happily slithered its way across his sweaty skin. When he tried to hit her in the head with the empty pistol, she used her left arm to strike his forearm so hard that a stinging numbness shot all the way through his hand, making him drop the weapon. She then forced his arm down, pinning it in place with her left knee. When he started to swing at her with his left hand, she slid the blade a centimeter across his throat; the burning pain made him freeze where he was.

"At least I got you too, you bitch," he croaked, trying to move his jaw as little as possible.

Lexa tilted her head slightly as an amused smile crossed her lips. "Oh, I think not, Carl Emerson," she said confidently. She reached up with her free left hand and hooked her index and middle fingers into the scorched hole in her shirt, then jerked downward to partially tear the fabric.

Emerson's eyes shifted to see the familiar brown of one of Mount Weather's bulletproof vests, marred by a flattened bullet with a ring of burned material surrounding it.

"It was yours," Lexa whispered, enjoying the stricken look on the last Maunon's face for two seconds before she pressed down and smoothly sliced through skin, muscle, blood vessels and cartilage as she pulled her sword across his throat, tipping her head back to avoid being sprayed in the face with blood as she pushed herself back to her feet.

—O—

"HOW ARE YOU HERE?!" howled Hans as he tried to fathom how, in all the possible coincidences in all the worlds of existence, he could be facing the woman who stood before him now.

"You killed hundreds of Arendellans," Anna said, light on the balls of her feet in her preferred combat stance, four meters away from him. "Did you really think we wouldn't hunt you down?"

"Well, one can hope," Hans said agreeably as he drew his own sword, the hissing of metal sliding across metal having a ghostly moan to it as the blade's nearly black surface emerged. "You're too deep in enemy territory, you know," he said as he felt the bite of the redhead's cold magic began to gnaw at his exposed skin. He pulsed some of his plundered soul energy into countering the damage. He could offset that, but not indefinitely.

The smirk that crossed the redhead's lips was infuriating. "Am I?" she asked all-too-cheerfully, gesturing for Hans to look around them.

Taking the chance, Hans saw a ring of observers, most of them Azgeda but quite a few of the enemy forces as well; they had gathered just outside the circle of frost that had formed with the Arendellan queen at its center and encompassing him, hovering at its edge but not daring to breach its perimeter.

"See?" Anna chirped before her eyes narrowed angrily. "Nobody likes you." She lunged forward, the smile wiped from her face as he swung his sword up and met her strike; the two blades rang as they met, sparks of frost and flame leaping from the point of impact.

Anna raised an eyebrow as she regarded Hans' blade, which seemed unharmed from her own strike. "Magic sword?" she asked casually.

"Of course," Hans replied smugly, shoving her back as the two of them stepped away from each other. "I expect you're not used to a fair fight."

"Oh, that really stings, coming from you," Anna retorted sarcastically. She jabbed forward with the tip of her sword; when Hans slid to his right to dodge, Anna stepped toward him, swinging her shield with a backhand motion to knock his sword wide to her left and his right, following up with a quick slash that laid open a line through his jacket's sleeve and left arm alike.

Hans took several steps away, growling as the stinging cold from the wound on his arm caused him to divert more of his stored magic toward healing both the actual laceration as well as the tissue damage from the magical chill. For her part, Anna found her eyes drawn to the slowly spreading stain on the fabric of his sleeve, somehow a red so dark as to be nearly black but also bearing a greenish sheen to it.

"What have you _done_ to yourself, Hans?" she asked, a mixture of disgust and surprise audible in her tone. "Was power really worth," she gestured with the blade of her sword toward his arm, "all this?"

Resentment boiled inside him at the hint of pity he could detect in her voice. He stepped forward, body turned to present less of a target, thrusting and jabbing at her defenses, turning her deflection with the blade of her sword into a swift riposte that the redhead had to block with her shield, then tip her head backward to dodge Hans slashing upward with the tip of his sword at her face. "What would _you_ know about the cost of power, you little bitch?" he spat at her.

"I know that in our arrogance and ignorance, Elsa and I nearly destroyed our entire kingdom," Anna easily replied, shifting from a more powerful slashing attack to careful, probing thrusts and jabs, forcing Hans to quickly parry and shift to prevent her from penetrating his defenses and scoring a vital blow; as it was, he still felt the burning pain from two new minor wounds after the prolonged exchange of strikes and parries, one on his left chest, the other on his right forearm. Neither was deep, but both were enough to draw blood and require the use of ever more of his precious store of magic, carefully accumulated through the battles of the last few weeks.

Silently chastising himself for letting the history between him and the redheaded brat rattle his composure, Hans stepped back to refocus his attention on his dueling technique. As much as he had tried to use it to insult Anna, he had also grown used to having an unfair advantage during swordfights in the form of his own enchanted blade, adding accuracy, speed and the ability to inflict grievous wounds with otherwise minor blows, and he had let it make his own technique sloppy.

The next few blows exchanged were more even, with neither of them able to score a hit on the other for a few minutes as they carefully re-evaluated the other's stance and level of aggression, until Hans began to feel the gnawing of the mystic cold at his own magical defenses. His personal stores of magic were limited, and the accursed Arendellan woman didn't seem to feel the same limitations. That meant she had the advantage of time. She could be patient as she slowly wore him down, and as much as he hated admitting it, she _had_ learned the value of patience over the years. He had witnessed that firsthand years ago, at their last meeting, so he knew that it was up to him to goad her into becoming careless and making a mistake.

"So how has your marital bliss been?" he asked, smiling lasciviously. "I must say, thinking about you and your sister and the way you must rut against each other has given me several wonderful fantasies over the years."

The flash of anger that crossed Anna's face nearly made Hans laugh, but the fact that the redhead maintained her guarding stance position rather than angrily rush him, as he had been expecting, was more than a bit irritating.

He was thoroughly blindsided when instead the youthful-looking redhead smiled brightly and said, in the sweetest tone, "Oh, I promise you, the way Elsa touches me, and kisses me, and makes love to me is a _thousand_ times more intense and beautiful than you could ever imagine."

She was still smiling innocently when she suddenly lunged forward; the abrupt attack was so well-disguised that she very nearly succeeded in running the tip of her sword through his face, and only a reflexive jerk to the side saved Hans' life. Still, it came at the cost of a significant chunk of his left ear, the top of which was severed by the magically keen edge of the ice blade.

With a snarl, Hans's left hand flew up to cup his wounded ear as he retreated to his right. "You BITCH!" he shouted, only to have his next retort cut short by a flurry of swipes and stabs that he just barely succeeded in avoiding through a combination of blocks and short retreats. He tried to mount a counterattack, but each riposte and strike seemed to be deflected well before he ever drew close to connecting, usually with another shallow cut or glancing blow from her shield, which froze his skin even through his clothing when it connected.

Ignoring his sense of conserving his magical reserves, he summoned a shroud of reddish-green flames around his left hand, swiping at her coppery head as she deflected a blow from his sword; she ducked the off-hand blow, driving the pommel of her sword into the side of his right knee as she crouched. He ignored the sharp jolt of pain, risking his leg buckling as he supported himself on his right leg and kicked her in the hip with his left foot, eliciting a grunt of surprise and sending her sprawling onto her side and her shield.

The injury to his right knee prevented him from pressing the attack, however, and by the time he was swinging his sword down at her back, she was already rolling away, using the momentum of the maneuver to regain her footing and return to a guard position, sword and shield both between her and him.

He extended his left arm forward, and the shroud of flame around his hand turned into a gout of angry green-yellow fire, licking toward her head and face. Her shield lifted to block the attack, its brilliant white glow intensifying as it met and resisted the hellfire.

Hans pressed the attack, charging while her shield was raised and blocking her vision, only to have to leap backward when Anna suddenly crouched and her glittering silvery-white blade swiped outward toward his legs. He was quick enough that the blade just missed, but he then found himself on the defensive when Anna launched herself as much forward as upward coming out of her crouch.

He quickly swung his blade and shifted his body to parry the flurry of strikes, but he registered the sting of one small nick or cut after another as the very edge of her blade seemed to find its way through his guard pattern, practiced so many times that it was second nature to him years ago. The redheaded queen used her shield to force his blade out of position repeatedly, and only Hans using his stolen soul energy for speed and agility kept her from scoring more than minor hits to his body.

He swept his left arm across his chest, creating a roaring wall of flames that finally made the vixen retreat momentarily. She stood still, regarding him with clear amusement on her face as he took stock of the half-dozen stinging wounds on his arms and torso. It was taking more effort to heal the injuries at this point, and he began to wonder if that was her game, trying to play out the battle between them to deplete his magical reserves.

Deciding to no longer play her game, Hans felt it necessary to gamble. Extending his left arm toward the ground, the bloody ichor seeping from his wounds began to increase its flow, dripping into a steaming, seething puddle on the frozen ground. The greenish-red fluid began to swirl and coalesce, taking shape into a clutch of serpents that abruptly burst forth, wriggling and squirming toward the Arendellan woman.

Despite all she had seen and survived, there was still a deep-seated instinctual revulsion at seeing the nearly two-meter long oily serpents slithering toward her at breakneck speed, dripping a revolting dark goo as they quickly closed ground on her. She shifted her sword toward the ground, taking another look up at Hans to see if he was going to try to throw another fireball at her, then looked back down just in time to see the snakes scatter, with most of them going to both sides to try and attack her from all directions at once.

Anna intensified the magic in her sword and shield, broadcasting intense, bitter cold as she lightly dug the tip of her sword into the ground and quickly spun in a circle; the first strokes beheaded the serpents that reached her first, and the increased cold helped slow the others—whether it was due to their forms taking on the reptilian susceptibility to cold or just one type of magic countering another was unimportant in the moment—enough for Anna to sever their bodies before they could reach her feet and legs, just barely so in the case of the last two.

Still rotating as she came back around, Anna caught a flash of green light as Hans threw another ball of fire, this time angling it toward the ground, so that it would strike and erupt before she had a chance to deflect it with her shield.

Grimacing, Anna lunged forward, throwing her whole body into a roll similar to a cartwheel; she pressed her shield down onto the fireball just as it struck the ground, muffling its fiery explosion as she pulled her legs up out of the range of its reduced blast radius. She used the momentum of her roll to launch herself at Hans again, lashing out with a thrust that succeeded in shallowly penetrating his abdomen and freezing part of his intestines before he wildly channeled a blast of fire toward the ground, launching both him and Anna backwards in a desperate attempt to prevent her from skewering him.

Anna felt stinging pain over her lower legs from where the heat of Hans' blast had managed to penetrate the protection of her ice mail, but she refused to give him any indication that he had managed to score at least a minor hit. Instead she rushed forward, interrupting his obvious attempt to heal himself with a thrust of her blade, then a jab from the edge of her shield as he lifted his sword to block her attack, forcing him to block that as well. That in turn left him open for another swipe from her sword, causing him to flinch and roll his left arm out of the way, allowing her to press forward and use her strong legs to drive her shoulder into his exposed left ribs with an audible _crack_.

Hans spun around, sweeping his sword at her head with a powerful backhand, only to miss her entirely when she ducked. While crouching, she slid the tip of her sword forward across the back of his left knee, severing one of his hamstring tendons as easily as the blade cut through the fabric of his pants.

Hans dropped to his right knee, reflexively clutching at his wounded leg. He turned his face toward Anna, who was readying a decisive blow until she halted in mid-swing as Hans' eyes glowed and his mouth yawned open. Surprise registered on her face as black bile began to spew from his throat toward her, and she only just managed to reposition her shield to catch the spray of caustic black goo after the first few drops flew toward her, striking her in the chest. The tarry material immediately burned its way through the tunic she was wearing, and even though it couldn't penetrate her ice mail, its infernal heat still managed to burn her skin through the magic armor before she could scrape it away with the edge of her blade.

Hans lunged backward, channeling more of his dwindling reserves toward healing the crippling injury to his abdomen and his left leg; if he couldn't maneuver around her, he was as good as dead, and both of them knew it. She was no longer the shallow, naive girl she had been when they had first met over two decades ago. Still, she didn't know _everything_.

Trying to gather his mystic strength again, Hans launched into an advanced series of sword strikes that had taken months to master. His dark blade wove a deadly pattern through the distance between them, striking at points both vital and minor in repeated attempts to injure his opponent, but her own glowing sword and shield were blurs of white light, intercepting each of his thrusts and swipes before they came close to touching her.

Pausing for a moment, Hans maintained a strong guard stance, sword raised in ready position between them. "How are you blocking this?!" he asked incredulously. His speed and power were both amplified by his weapon, so likely hers were as well, but _still_.

"What, surprised a little princess from the tiny country of Arendelle can hold her own with someone who trained with a sword from the time he was a boy?" she asked smugly.

Hans looked a bit taken aback. "Well, …yes, in fact," he admitted. Her words were almost exactly what he had been thinking to himself, disturbingly.

Anna smiled again. "Easy. I asked your brothers who trained all of you growing up. Then Elsa and I found him and hired him." She easily adopted a fighting stance he sickly recognized as his own. "Paid him for over two years to first show me how you fight, then teach me how to take it apart. I'll have to rub it in to Elsa that those lessons finally paid off. Oh, and she's not bad with a rapier herself now."

The realization of exactly what she had been doing begin to register, and he felt the anger in his tainted blood beginning to boil. "You've been _toying_ with me!" he snarled.

"No, not really," she said, but the amused look on her face didn't exactly bolster her argument. "I'm going to kill you. That's just how it is. You've been doing a pretty good job of fighting for your life. I certainly haven't been really pressing the attack, because I know I can wear you down, but I'll take the opportunity to kill you as soon as it presents itself." Now Anna's face softened slightly, even verging on the edge of pity, and that made Hans even angrier. "I have no need to drag this out to humiliate you, because, to be painfully honest, there is NOTHING I can do to you that's even half as bad as what you've done to yourself, Hans."

His vision turned red as he allowed his anger to surge. Forgoing technique, since using it would actually play into her strategy, he instead alternated between throwing blasts of hellfire with stabs and slashes of his sword, forcing Anna to parry with her sword, block with her shield and twist and jump to dodge his wild attacks for several seconds as she gave ground before his offensive, the circle of frozen ground and ring of spectators just outside of its bounds both sliding with them as the positions changed.

When he extended himself too far, Anna used her sword and shield together to slam his right arm and blade to his left, sliding her body to the side and lifting her left foot to trip him as he pressed the attack; as he stumbled by her, she swiped her ice blade across his back, slicing a long gash through the bottom of his leather backpack.

Hans shrieked in agony as he felt an intense surge of agony across his lower back like nothing he had ever felt before. He felt dark tears spring to his eyes as he used his fall to tumble forward, rolling as far away from Anna as possible to prevent her from mounting her own counterattack.

He felt inexplicably lighter as he regained his footing, resisting the urge to check his back for what had to be a sheet of blood pouring out, judging from the furious agony he was experiencing. But when his eyes locked in on Anna again, she wasn't looking at him at all.

Instead her blue-green eyes were firmly fixed upon the black leathery cover of the Vile Codex, bleeding a stream of oily blood from a long cut across its leather face, where it had fallen upon the frozen ground.

—O—

Anna's thoughts whirled as she tried to both process what she was seeing and not throw up as she got a long, stark look at this twisted, macabre object. An eternal howl of pain was still visible upon the barely discernible features of the man (or woman) who had been skinned to make the leather cover for the Codex, and the combination of that horrific realization as well as the full effect of the malign tome's dark, evil aura struck Anna with all the force and none of the redeeming qualities of a tidal wave.

But beyond that instinctual revulsion at laying eyes upon the book and hearing its soft, buzzing whispers for the first time, something jangled in Anna's mind even more fiercely.

The Codex was _bleeding_.

It couldn't be that simple. Could it?

After a quick glance at Hans, which revealed he was nearly paralyzed with shock as he likewise regarded the surreal situation, she tried to fit the pieces together in her mind.

" _The Codex can only be destroyed by its polar opposite,"_ Maleficent had said.

An object associated with peace, but used for evil.

A lethal tool of war, wielded for good.

Knowledge, used to corrupt and prey upon others.

Action, used to defend and protect those who cannot protect themselves.

An object of utter hate, created in an unholy ritual of pain, death and fear.

A creation of purest love, forged in a shared embrace of joy, life and acceptance.

A book so dark, so corrupt that even now it began to corrode the ice and ground around it, turning the pristine white into a sooty black.

A sword so bright and pure that where the tendrils of soot and smoke drew near, its light vaporized them instantly.

—O—

Hans broke into a run toward the Codex, dropping his sword as he scrambled to reach the source of his power before Anna.

Flipping her sword so the tip pointed downward, Anna lunged at the Codex, drawing her arms back over her head as she reached the book in only a few powerful strides. Hans was still several meters away as she fell to a knee and drove her sword downward with both hands wrapped around its handle, shifting her weight on top of the blade and driving it deeper and deeper until her sword's crossguard hit the book's cover.

As the gleaming white blade drove through the malignant tome, it screamed and howled in agony. Anna clambered backward away from the terrible keening, just in time to avoid the gout of black blood that began to spray upward.

When the first drops hit Hans and ate through his clothes and sizzled against his skin, he pulled back as well, watching numbly as the Codex caught fire, the flames licking a brilliant white, blue and gold instead of the more familiar green and red he was used to seeing. He turned to look back at his sword, only to see it dissolving into a boiling, sticky mess of tarry goo.

Anna lifted her right arm to shield her eyes from the bright light of the mystic conflagration as she tried to see what was going on with her sword and the Codex. She never saw Hans as he slammed into her from her right side, driving her onto her back and knocking the wind out of her.

Not wasting a moment, Hans shot to his feet and drove a fierce kick into Anna's right side, eliciting a grunt and a pained gasp. Using some of the last bits of his pilfered blood magic, he covered his hands with a coating of thick, dark blood, then grabbed Anna's shield and wrenched it off her right forearm. The corrupted blood sizzled away from the contact with the magic device, but it served its purpose by protecting his hands as gleefully flung the shield as far away from them as possible.

He dropped to a knee on her chest, ignoring the ice mail burning his knee in favor of savoring the sound of the air being forced from her lungs. He shifted the last dregs of his magic to protect his legs and groin as he sat on her chest and wrapped his hands around her throat.

"You have taken EVERYTHING from me!" he shouted into her flushed face, cheeks aglow and eyes closed as she struggled to draw in a breath as he began to choke her.

Despite being winded from the blow to her ribs and her chest, Anna managed to tighten the muscles in her neck as soon as she felt him to squeeze around her throat. The ice mail protected her from most injuries, but it remained as flexible as fine cloth to allow her maximal movement and comfort.

"But at least I can finally KILL YOU!" Hans continued to exhort, manic delight on his face as he fought against her efforts to protect herself. "Oh, think of the utter ruin that'll be on your damned sister's face when she sees your lifeless body! It's almost worth bringing you to her _myself_ , just to see her completely destroyed _forever_!"

Anna's eyes shot open. They almost seemed to glow as she locked onto Hans' wild gaze, his pupils so wide as to nearly eclipse the thin rim of blue surrounding them, as emotion erupted through Anna's body.

He felt Anna's right hand slam against his throat and begin to squeeze in turn as she matched his furious gaze with one of her own. He tightened his grip, ignoring the burning cold that began to seep through his protective magic and sear his fingers and palms, but he found her throat inflexible despite him squeezing harder.

Anna managed to smile slightly as she felt the pressure around her windpipe ease slightly. She chanced a breath, savoring it before blowing it back out, visibly frosty as it left her lips, much to Hans's consternation.

"NO!" he shouted. "You don't have your sword or your shield! You're helpless without them! You have no magic of your own!"

Anna tightened her own grip on his throat, not bothering to add her left hand. She squeezed harder, smiling as Hans began to gasp, his exhalations now visible as his windpipe began to freeze. She maintained the tension in the muscles of her neck despite the ache screaming in the now-bruised fibers, and as she watched, Hans' eyes began to grow glassy, then opaque as they froze, the right eye cracking a second before the left did the same while rimes of frost blossomed over his skin.

As his hands stopped squeezing, Anna forced them away from her throat; reflexively Hans reached to his own throat, trying to dislodge Anna's grip but without success. He clawed at the ice that was now his ruined throat, his last moments of consciousness spent in a primal terror of suffocation.

Anna scooted out from under Hans as the rest of his body collapsed, his legs weakly convulsing about once a second but the rest of him forever unmoving. She slowly rose to her feet, reaching up to assess her neck and wincing in pain as she lightly touched her injured throat. She looked around, seeing scores of Coalition and Azgeda alike watching her with a mixture of fear and awe, all of them still as statues.

She looked back down at Hans' body. With a quick stomp, she brought her right foot down on his frozen head, smiling with grim satisfaction as it shattered into dark fragments under her ice boot.

—O—

Clarke had always prided herself on trying to solve problems with her mind first. Which was why she really, _really_ didn't want to admit that sometimes, solving them with her fists could be fun too.

She punched Nia again, this time using her right hand to hit the older woman squarely in the jaw as the Azgeda ruler tried to regain her footing. Clarke's knuckles were abraded in several places, but most of the blood on the backs of her hands wasn't hers.

"This is how it was always going to be, Nia" Clarke said smartly, stepping backward and tensing her abdominal muscles—a lesson Lexa had drilled into her—to dampen the impact of Nia punching her in her stomach. She drove a left into the back of Nia's neck, nearly at the base of her skull, sending the woman immediately to the ground again as her limbs briefly went limp and a flash of pain seared through her spine.

It _might_ have been an ethical violation for a doctor to use a knowledge of weak spots in the human body to cripple an opponent in a fight, but Clarke had never officially completed her medical training.

And this was the Ground anyway.

Nia swung her arm outward, catching the back of Clarke's right heel and knocking her foot forward and her leg out from under her, bringing the blonde sprawling to the ground. Contrary to what Clarke had expected, Nia didn't talk much during a fight, focusing instead on what mattered. So as soon as Clarke hit the ground, Nia was already moving to press the attack by throwing herself onto the younger blonde.

Clarke managed to get her right leg pulled back against her chest, so that instead of landing on Clarke's chest, Nia instead landed on the bottom of Clarke's boot. Clarke smiled at the snarling Nia as she uncoiled her right leg and kicked upward, HARD, launching Nia backward through the air.

The impact of Nia's body hitting the ground knocked the wind from her lungs, made worse by the stab of pain when a large rock she landed on cracked at least one of the ribs on her right side. Nia rolled over, an instinctual attempt to protect her head and face as she curled into a ball and began to scrabble at the rock embedded in the ground, trying to get her fingernails and fingertips beneath it to pry it loose while her body shielded her activity from Clarke's view.

Clarke dropped forcefully onto Nia's back, forcing a sharp cry of pain from the older woman as her broken rib cracked further. It felt like the younger woman had slid a dagger into her side and was twisting it, so intense was the pain, but Nia's mind dulled the burning agony as she felt the rock begin to shift from her desperate efforts.

"How old are you anyway, Nia?" Clarke taunted as she drove another punch into Nia's left side. "Mid-fifties? Late fifties?" Now a right punch into Nia's injured ribs; Clarke wasn't aware of the broken rib, but the gasp of pain she heard and the way Nia squirmed beneath her when her fist drove into the older woman's side made her smile cruelly. "I'm _nineteen_ , Nia," Clarke continued between blows to Nia's body. "I'm younger. I'm stronger. I'm in the prime of my life. There's no way you—"

Nia rolled beneath Clarke, bringing the fist-sized rock clenched in her hand up in an awkward swipe at Clarke's head. Clarke saw it coming just enough to try to evade the blow, resulting in the strike to her head being a glancing one rather than direct, but it still stung and burned where the rock clipped the left side of her forehead.

Angrily, Clarke drove a vicious left-handed punch directly into Nia's trachea, striking not just with her arm but with her entire upper body; predictably, the sudden blow to her windpipe stunned Nia, leaving her momentarily struggling to move air and causing her to drop the rock beside her.

Clarke instantly seized it, examining it for a moment as she shifted it in her grasp before she returned her attention to Nia, whose face was reddened as her mouth gaped open in a desperate attempt to breath. Clarke brought the rock up over her head, then she immediately drove her left arm downward, slamming the stone into Nia's face before repeating the same action again, then again.

She shifted to grip the rock, now slightly sticky from Nia's blood mixing with the dirt on it, with both hands before she continued to pound savagely at Nia's face, over and over and over. There was no higher thinking left in Clarke's mind as she reverted to a primitive thought process, one so deeply embedded in the parts of her brain that reason and restraint were nowhere to be found. Instead there was only survival... and death.

After some time, Clarke finally stopped the motion of her arms. She could numbly register the stinging pain of her hands and fingers, the ache and burning of her arms, the throbbing of her left forehead and temple, the burning of a split lip and the iron taste of blood in her mouth.

For several seconds, she struggled to make sense of the bloody, misshapen mess beneath her that used to be a face. It was no longer recognizable as such. Blood was everywhere. Skin had been peeled away, exposing glistening off-white with a hint of yellow in various places that had once been a forehead, a cheek, an eyebrow. Teeth that had been brutally broken loose were scattered in the remnants of a mouth, and the whole gruesome tableau was made more surreal by the new concavity of what Nia's face had been, something that even the most basic parts of Clarke's reasoning mind understood should not be.

Clarke didn't register the handful of tears that trickled from her eyes as she numbly dropped the bloody rock on Nia's chest and shakily rose to her feet. The tears slithered over the greasy warpaint without disturbing Wanheda's visage, and they mixed easily with the blood smeared on Clarke's face, making it as if they had never been there.

Clarke turned to regard the Coalition fighters standing some distance away. All of them were staring at her in amazement, with looks that would be more befitting regarding a god than a simple woman fighting for not just her survival, but the survival of her people. Her friends. Her woman.

"The bitch is dead."

It took several seconds for Clarke to realize that the words had come from her lips.

—O—

 **Author's Afterword:** Sorry about the cliffhanger at the end of the previous chapter. I was trying my best to get part of what was shaping up to be a massive chapter up and published, and that was the most natural place I could find for a break. Now that you've got the rest of the chapter, I hope this assuages any stressed neurons. I don't like cliffhangers, but sometimes it's the best way of managing a large hunk of text. And this was a LARGE hunk of text. The chapter was over forty pages long when I decided to break it, and after finishing this current chapter I expect these last two put together have surpassed fifty pages of writing on my word processor. So, yeah, it would have been a massive chapter if I had kept them together.

Next we get the end of the battle and the aftermath. Take a deep breath. The hardest part is over for most of us. Current estimate is four more chapters, including an epilogue.

I'd also like to take a moment to reiterate that stories can take on a mind of their own.

For months when I was working through the layout of this chapter, Bellamy was going to die. He was going to die protecting the others from the sneak attack, sacrificing his life by detonating a grenade inside the cavern to kill the Azgeda and seal off the passage. (Probably. The details could have changed, but that's what I was planning.) But then that just didn't feel right, so it became Indra who was going to die, sacrificing herself in a delaying action to allow Bellamy and Echo to escape and warn the others. But that didn't feel right, either. I wanted to show Indra as the warrior we all knew she was but never really got to see and admire in action, and fighting a battle only to lose didn't really convey that sentiment.

Still, I wanted there to be some kind of price that was paid for saving Echo and stopping the Azgeda sneak attack. Even though Clarke wouldn't have been there for the attack, even a small pack of Azgeda could have torn through the noncombatants and the few Trikru left to guard them, because Lexa really did commit damn near everything to the field of battle in this fight. Even without their main target, the Azgeda would have claimed a bloody price had they been allowed to reach the Trikru camp. Stopping that called for someone to sacrifice something precious, something that mattered.

Then I remembered that not all sacrifices have to be blood ones.

I love Monroe and Harper. I seriously do. This story has become almost as much about them as it has Anna and Elsa and Clarke and Lexa, and I'm proud of that. It hurts me personally to make these characters I love suffer, but that's part of telling a story and making it resonate. In this chapter, Monroe was willing to sacrifice the fragile peace she had made with her past to save others, at great personal cost to herself. THAT is heroism, just as much as Lexa charging into the face of steep odds, or Clarke risking herself to carry out a plan to drain Nia's magic, or Elsa having to out-skill Nia rather than overpower her, or Harper ignoring her own safety to take out the last archer, or Anna facing down her very first nemesis (and in case you missed the single line in this chapter indicating it, she and Hans HAVE faced each other again after the events of Frozen and before he stole the Codex—but that's a story for another day) for the final time.

I never intended to make part of this story about post-traumatic stress disorder, but it was there, and I felt it should be acknowledged and addressed respectfully. I hope I have been able to do so. There is no right way to deal with PTSD. In a way, Harper is in over her head in trying to help Monroe through it, because she's certainly not trained or experienced as a counselor or psychiatrist. But in a more profound way, Harper is _exactly_ the right person to help Monroe, because she's the one who loves Monroe and whom Monroe loves in return. She's the one who can just be there for Monroe when words would only make the pain and anguish worse, to hold her and comfort her and silently tell her that she's there if Monroe needs her, she can give her space if that would be better, but she's NEVER going to abandon her. She's going to be there when the tears are falling without an end in sight, and she's going to be there to shares laughs and hugs when times are better. And sometimes, that's the best care we can receive.

Still a handful of chapters to go, so bear with me. You'd made it through the most dramatic parts of the journey. Now it's time to pull the ends of the ribbon together and start tying the knot. Thank you for reading, and thank you for your patience. I promise I'll keep working on the next chapters steadily, so they should hopefully be up at a decent pace for me. Still a bit more story to tell here, after all.


	17. Ch 17: The Pieces

**Author's Note:** I don't do an awful lot of trigger warnings, but this chapter has a brief mention of visions of self-harm as a part of nightmares. Nothing explicit, I promise you.

Cover Art for the story is from the LexaRecovery tumblr. Stay strong together.

 _I do not own the television show "The 100" or make any claims upon it or its characters. Similarly, I do not own Frozen, its characters or any Disney characters or property. All these characters are used under the concept of Fair Use, and I make no profit or income from using any of them._

 **Our Fight Is Not Over**

by Jo K.

Chapter 17: The Pieces

 _I want to run_

 _I want to hide_

 _I want to tear down the walls that hold me inside_

 _I want to reach out and touch the flame_

 _Where the streets have no name_

 _I want to feel sunlight on my face_

 _I see the dust cloud disappear without a trace_

 _I want to take shelter from the poison rain_

 _Where the streets have no name_

-U2, "Where the Streets Have No Name"

—O—

—O—

As Anna turned to look around her, she saw that all those watching remained devoutly fixated on her.

Once such scrutiny had made her nervous and self-conscious. Now it no longer bothered her in the least.

Ignoring the fatigue in her body from both the physical exertion of combat and the display of magic from within herself and not her weapons, she walked over to her helmet, lying in a small bed of snow that had accumulated inside the roughly circular region where she and Hans had fought. She picked it up and placed it on her head once more; immediately its ice flowed down her neck to reform a shimmering hauberk over her swollen and bruising throat, the comforting chill already starting to ease the stinging pain. She walked over to her shield next and, with a slight bend, retrieved it from the ground and resettled it on her left forearm.

Then she made her way over to her sword. Only its grip and hilt could be seen, so deeply had she driven it into the ground. As she knelt down to inspect what remained of the Codex, she could only see a few crumbling ashes scattered around the frosted crystal of her sword's crossguard and hilt. The ground appeared to be scorched beneath the ashes, but there was no sign of dark blood, pieces of leather or bits of parchment.

Carefully Anna gripped the handle of her sword and pulled it upward. It took a bit of effort to get it going, but once it began to slide free of the frozen earth, it slid upward with less resistance until the pointed tip finally came free, the lingering ashes crumbling into dust as the shining blade brushed against them. Anna aimed the tip of her blade downward and silently increased the flow of ice magic between her and her weapons; instantly the glow of her sword and shield intensified as she directed the magic toward the scorched ground.

The black char on the frozen earth shimmered as it froze, lasting only seconds before effervescing into nothingness as the remaining ground froze throughout, over a meter deep. Anna's face remained grim as she continued to cleanse the contaminated area, baptizing it with biting cold, to ensure that nothing remained of the magic book that had caused so much suffering across multiple worlds.

—O—

Lexa wasn't quite sure what to think as she led her newly-claimed horse across the scattered patches of fighting that continued across the battlefield. It was obvious that the Azegda were being routed at this point. The Coalition forces had suffered their own losses, but the Azgeda were dwindling rapidly, their lines now collapsed into little pockets of resistance.

The Coalition had won.

There was still fighting, of course. Azgeda never surrendered, and Lexa was fully prepared to kill all those who had dared to take the field in defiance of their sworn oaths to the Coalition, all in service to a madwoman who should have stayed dead.

The unexpected sight of a large group of Azgeda, most of them seated on the cold ground and apparently without weapons, drew Lexa's attention. She urged her borrowed mount forward, quickly closing the ground between herself and the red-painted warriors.

As she drew near, she could see several dozen Coalition warriors appearing to stand guard over the seated Azgeda. Each of the Coalition fighters had weapons drawn, but they all looked vaguely uneasy, as if they weren't sure what to do. Simply put, each of them seemed as surprised to see captured Azgeda as the Azgeda themselves.

A most peculiar situation.

Lexa reined her horse to a stop next to the pack of Coalition warriors. The Azgeda all turned to regard her, but none of them made to stand or flee. This was only growing more puzzling until the Coalition warriors parted and allowed a young woman with a head of messy blonde hair, dressed in a thin shirt and dark pants, both articles of clothing smeared in places with dirt and blood, to step forward, her hands still tightly gripping an assault rifle.

Ah. _Now_ things made sense.

"Heda," Harper spoke politely, nodding to the Coalition's leader. "They, um, kind of... surrendered to me, I guess?" the blonde spoke hesitantly. "I mean, they never said it was a surrender, but they stopped fighting us once they realized who I was. And when they put down their weapons, the rest of my unit felt... uncomfortable fighting them."

Lexa nodded. It would not have been a fair fight, slaughtering unarmed men and women. She was proud of her warriors' restraint and sense of decency.

"So we just didn't," Harper continued. "Fight them, I mean."

Lexa turned her full attention to the blonde Skaikru woman who had become something she had never asked for or wanted. The burdens that had been placed on her young shoulders were numerous, but rather than collapse beneath their weight, the quietly fierce Harper carried them defiantly.

Wordlessly, Lexa slid her left foot free from the stirrup and swung out of her saddle, dropping to the ground beside Harper. She carefully looked the blonde over, noting the patches of blood, dirt and grass on her dark gray shirt and navy pants. Harper's face and hands were likewise grimy with smears of dirt and sweat, and the blonde continued to clutch the rifle in her right hand with slightly too much determination to be truly relaxed.

The two of them regarded each other for a few uneasy seconds before Lexa spoke. "Did you know the Azgeda do not surrender?" she asked. "Not since Nia took the throne over thirty years ago."

Harper turned to look at the assembled warriors from both sides. All of them were on the west side of the valley, the side opposite of the explosion, and with the fighting dwindling at this point, an eerie calm was settling over the valley.

"They sure as hell surrendered today," Harper spoke softly, letting her gaze linger for another long second before turning to look at Lexa, almost quickly enough to catch a quick glimpse of the sly smirk that briefly crossed Lexa's lips but not quite fast enough.

"Yes, they did," Lexa replied softly, looking over the scores of Azgeda encircled by her forces.

"Those Azgeda who have surrendered will be cared for," Lexa said firmly, as much to her own warriors as the Azgeda themselves. "If others wish to surrender, they will also be moved here, where we will establish a temporary camp and allow healers to treat the Azgeda wounded while we deal with those who continue to defy the Coalition."

She turned to one of the older warriors, a member of the Blue Cliff clan who had served in several battles under Lexa. "Western Moon, gather more warriors and take some of the Azgeda to their camp. Take down tents and shelters, then bring them back here to be reassembled."

The short but stocky man bowed his head. "As you command, Heda," he said, his voice calm.

Harper watched as the older man selected two warriors and began moving toward the rear lines of the Coalition to gather others to assist. She turned back to Lexa. "What are you going to do with them? The Azgeda?"

Lexa very nearly sighed, but she resisted the urge. A decision would have to be made about them soon, within the next few hours. Lexa knew that.

"I will make a decision regarding their fate as soon as the battle is over and I have had time to assess our situation."

Harper looked pointedly at Lexa and decided that was as good an answer as she was going to get. She nodded absently, although she realized that her agreement was likely irrelevant to the Commander's line of thinking. "Why did they surrender?" she asked, her voice unsteady, although the question was asked out of frustration rather than curiosity. Harper already knew why.

Lexa turned her head to regard Harper, who seemed to be fighting back tears. Whether they were tears of emotion, anguish or something else entirely, the brunette was uncertain, so she remained silent as she waited, patiently holding Harper's gaze.

"Why am I so fucking special?" Harper swore softly, her voice tight with emotion but carefully kept low. "Because I kept their prisoners in Mount Weather from dying? Because I didn't die myself, despite those goddamn vampires jabbing foot-long needles into what felt like _every fucking bone_ in my body and sucking my _life_ out?! What was so fucking special about _that?!"_

Lexa reached out and rested her right hand on Harper's left shoulder. "Because you chose to suffer to spare them from an even worse fate. Because you faced your pain bravely, proudly. Because you challenged the _Maunon_ to take your life, then refused to die. Because you fought here, to protect those you love. Because you face your fears and challenge the world instead of accept what you have been given. That is why these Azgeda respect you and chose to surrender rather than risk harming you." She kept her eyes locked onto Harper's, ignoring the quiver of the blonde's chin and shaking of her body. "You sacrificed and suffered to protect those who could not protect themselves. THAT is what heroes do, Harper Jusdonosir."

Tears trickled down Harper's dirty face, and she reflexively looked away from Lexa. "I'm... I'm not a hero," she whispered.

Lexa squeezed Harper's shoulder briefly. "You are," she replied, "most of all because you feel that way."

Harper tightly clenched her eyes closed, straining so hard her temples pounded for several painful seconds before she finally relaxed her facial muscles. "I never wanted this," she said, her voice rough and raw.

Despite the decades of knowledge and lifetimes of memories in the Commander's Flame, Lexa found herself unable to think of anything remotely comforting to say to the young warrior.

—O—

To say that Anna burst through the canvas flap that served as a door in the hospital tent would have been a bit of overstatement, but not by much.

"Elsa!" Anna cried out as the magic in her heart and soul pointed her gaze to the right corner of the makeshift room. There Elsa lay in a small field cot, covered with a light sheet, with Lincoln seated on a small folding chair beside her.

At the sound of her wife's voice, Elsa's eyes opened, quickly focusing in on her true love. "I'm much better than it looks," the blonde said, her voice weary with fatigue. "I just passed out from exerting myself too much."

Foregoing any chastisements, Anna dropped to her knees beside the cot, taking Elsa's right hand in both of her own. She very nearly fell into Lincoln's lap when she stumbled on her way down.

"I take it the battle's over, since your armor is off?" Elsa asked, her eyes fluttering closed once more.

"It is," Anna replied, kissing the back of Elsa's fair hand. "We won."

"Mmm, I figured as much. You _were_ fighting, after all."

"Flirt," Anna said softly, smiling now that her own eyes had seen that Elsa was going to be fine. "And the baby's okay?"

Elsa nodded gently. "She's fine. The physician Jackson checked her with the sound device when they first brought me in, and then again just a few minutes ago. Everything looks good with her."

Anna audibly sighed. "I was worried when I felt you collapse," she admitted. "But I didn't feel anything horribly wrong, so I stayed and kept fighting."

Elsa's blue eyes opened and met Anna's worried blue-green. "And that was exactly what you should have done, my heart," she said proudly.

Anna's eyes looked away briefly. "I _wanted_ to check on you," she half-mumbled.

Elsa sighed happily as she closed her eyes again. "I wanted you to, too. But you did the right thing, and I know you were needed out there."

Anna nodded to herself. "The sorcerer is dead," she said, her voice flat. "I killed him."

Elsa's eyes opened again, more slowly this time. She carefully looked Anna's face over, checking for any sign of visible injury. "Are you alright?" she asked gently.

"Yeah," Anna replied, and suddenly she felt weary to her very bones. "It was..." her voice trailing off as she took a moment to consider how audacious fortune could become. "It was Hans."

Now Elsa's eyes widened appreciably. "HANS?!" she said, her voice nearly rasping from the harshness in her tone.

"Hans," Anna replied, her voice strained but slightly softer. _The mistake that kept on haunting them. HER mistake, that nearly cost them everything._

The soft touch of cool, smooth fingertips on her right left cheek made Anna open her eyes again, this time meeting Elsa's bright blue gaze, brimming with compassion and love. "No, Anna," Elsa whispered.

"No what?" Anna weakly replied.

"Don't blame yourself. Don't you ever blame yourself for someone else's actions... especially him."

Anna sniffed once, summoning all her willpower to hold back any rebellious tears. "I'm glad he's dead," she said softly.

"We gave him a chance to redeem himself years ago, and he squandered that as well," Elsa replied, thinking about the days spent helping their friends on the Dark Continent. "Are you honestly surprised he was capable of such cruelty?"

"Of course not," Anna replied, allowing a little warmth of happiness as the sting of threatened tears began to withdraw. "But Elsa... What he had _become_." Anna shook her head slowly. "It was twisted. _Evil_. All corruption and poison. He was burning people alive to fuel his power, and he was _enjoying it."_

"I imagine you put a stop to that as well," Elsa said proudly. Then she smiled as a memory from their days in Agrabah floated to the surface in her mind. "You lived up to your word, didn't you?" she asked her mate softly.

"Yeah," Anna said, unable to suppress the shy grin that eased its way onto her lips. "I _told_ him that if I ever saw him again, I'd kill him, after what he tried to do to you. Again."

Elsa placed a kiss on Anna's temple. "You're a woman of your word, my love. That's one of the reasons why I married you."

Anna's grin stretched wider. "I thought it was because I leave you a sweaty, incoherent mess when we do it."

The utter silence filling the tent currently shared with a few other patients was quite evident in the pause before Elsa replied. But the days of her being embarrassed about what she and Anna did were far in the past. So she simply flashed that cocky smirk that she knew made Anna's mouth go dry and back begin to sweat before she cooed, "Well, I did say _one_ of the reasons."

Anna leaned forward and kissed her wife for several seconds, pulling away for bright blue eyes to meet blue-green. "Are you able to stand?" she asked.

Elsa nodded her head and clenched the sides of her cot to help pull herself into an upright position. "I think so," she said.

"Because I can carry you if I need to," Anna added. "Clarke was wanting both of us for something outside."

Elsa gave Anna a game smile. "Help me up?"

"Of course!"

Carefully Anna helped Elsa turn to the side, then to carefully stand. They waited for several seconds while Elsa carefully assessed her body, finally giving Anna a smile and nod of acknowledgment.

Anna shot Elsa a look that indicated she was still skeptical. "I'm happy to carry you, you know."

"I know, and thank you for that. I'll be fine."

"If you start to fall, I'm putting you over my shoulder and carrying you to the horse."

"Anna..."

—O—

Clarke sighed, watching dispassionately as the surviving Azgeda warriors, maybe two or three hundred of them at this point, helped set up the temporary shelter off to the side of the battlefield. Three times as many Coalition warriors circulated through the growing shelters, silently promising that any further violence would be dealt with swiftly and harshly. Healers from both Coalition and Azgeda forces tended to the Azgeda wounded under the scrutiny of the guards. It was now late in the afternoon, and fatigue was beginning to gnaw at Wanheda's thoughts as the euphoria of adrenaline began to wane.

"I passed Harper on the way here," Clarke said to her wife, the two of them astride their horses as they waited roughly seventy yards away, their mounts positioned side by side. "She was going to tell Monroe that she was okay."

"She has much on her mind," Lexa said. "But she did well in battle today."

Clarke nodded in silent accord. "What are we going to do with _them_?" she asked, not taking her eyes off the Azgeda, battered and bloody and beaten.

"Those who fought against the Coalition forces today will be given the chance to swear an oath to serve the Coalition. Those who do so will join the Coalition forces. Most of them will remain in Polis, where they can be monitored at all times. If they have family, their mates and children will be allowed to join them in Polis."

"Isn't that dangerous? Having them in Polis?"

Lexa turned to look at her _houmon_. "No more dangerous than leaving them to their own devices in the North," she said simply.

"About that," Clarke replied. "What are you going to do about the Azgeda in general? Are you going to wipe them out as a clan, divide them among the others? Or are you going to place a new ruler on Nia's throne and hope he or she doesn't follow in her footsteps?"

"I have considered several options," Lexa said quietly. "The Azgeda are proud and difficult. Integration into other tribes would likely be... problematic. Fortunately, a better option presented itself."

Lexa tipped her head to the side, back toward the Coalition camp, where a small pack of maybe a half-dozen people on horseback were crossing the battlefield, a little over halfway to them.

"One of the Azgeda chose to betray her people and attempt to warn you of an attempt on your life," Lexa said, getting a look of surprise on Clarke's face. "Nia had assumed I would keep you out of the fighting, that you would be back at our camp and thus vulnerable to a group of assassins."

The amused smile on Clarke's face was nothing short of adorable to Lexa. "She didn't know me very well, did she?" the blonde asked.

Lexa's smile was more subtle but all the more precious to Clarke as a result. "No, she certainly did not."

"You, however, know me quite well."

"I would hope so."

There was a definite pause and a clear smirk on Clarke's face before she added, " _Quite_... well."

Lexa's return quip was forestalled by the arrival of a young woman on horseback, accompanied by several Coalition warriors also on horseback. She had short, dirty dark blonde hair, fair features and intense eyes that Clarke seemed to partially recognize. Her clothes were smeared with dirt and grime, but her face and neck had been washed and were clean, and her eyes were sharp and intent.

"I know you," Clarke said, trying to place where she'd seen the woman before.

"Echo," said the older blonde. "I was one of the ones you and Heda rescued from Mount Weather."

" _And_ you were the one behind the plot to try to destroy the alliance between Arkadia and the Coalition," Clarke added, the pieces starting to fall in place in her mind.

Echo grimaced visibly. "While that was my aunt's plan, I _was_ the one who helped manipulate Bellamy Blake into trying to attack the Coalition and sunder your alliance."

"And Lexa didn't kill you?" asked Clarke, genuinely surprised. She turned to look at her wife.

Lexa's face was utterly calm as she looked at her mate. "Echo fled back to Azgeda lands, and when I installed Roan on the throne, she managed to disappear."

Echo spoke up, her face shifting into an emotionless mask she seemed to bear smoothly. "I was protected by forces loyal to Nia who were plotting to overthrow Roan. Then when the sorcerer appeared, demonstrated his power and offered to help bring Nia back to life and assist us in conquering the entire Kongeda, I was initially supportive of the plan... until I realized exactly what was required to restore her to life.

"By that time, I was already on an alien world, entirely at the mercy of a madman who controlled dark magic powerful enough to return the dead to life. I hoped that once my aunt was back, she would rein in the sorcerer's dark impulses, but instead she fucking _enjoyed_ her new power and the suffering his dark magics demanded."

Clarke frowned as she tipped her head slightly to the side. "So it's all somebody else's fault, right?" she asked skeptically, at first to no one as she looked off to the gray sky just above the horizon. She turned to glare at Echo, and the intensity of her blue eyes, still shrouded in the ravenesque warpaint of Wanheda, made Echo shiver. "You were just 'following orders,' huh?"

"I—" Echo began, the words catching in her throat before Wanheda's furious gaze. The sight of Wanheda's left hand slowly moving down toward the Skai gun she wore on her left hip was just as disconcerting, however.

"Echo is our best opportunity to restore order to the Azgeda," Lexa interjected, her measured voice notably calm. "She is Nia's niece, the last member of their royal line. The Azgeda will recognize her as the legitimate ruler, forestalling any need to force a new ruler upon them and then deal with pockets of resistance for years afterward."

If it was hard for Echo to speak just moments before, now it was impossible. Her mouth opened, but not even a squeak or croak came out. She pressed a hand to her chest in a gesture of disbelief.

Lexa eased her horse forward, moving a few steps toward the dumbfounded woman. "Echo has met and worked with Skaikru. She has a positive opinion of them, or at least no active hatred toward them. Whether the reverse is true remains to be seen, but ultimately that is irrelevant for her ruling the Azgeda. All that matters is that her people accept her as Nia's legitimate successor, which they will."

"So she's going to get away with the shit she helped carry out?!" Clarke shot at Lexa, her voice rising despite her attempts to retain her composure; the words carried far enough to reach Anna and Elsa, who were riding at a leisurely pace on Anna's horse toward the three women and the small escort of guards around the woman they didn't recognize. Anna turned to look over her shoulder at Elsa, seated behind her wife, getting a matching glance of curiosity from the blonde as their eyes briefly met.

When Clarke turned her head to look at Lexa again, she was surprised as Lexa's visage shifted from careful neutrality to a grim smile that usually heralded someone's death; the shift was unexpected enough that it gave Clarke pause.

"Oh no," Lexa spoke, her voice calm and soft, but there was an undeniable tone of menace in that measured voice, though it didn't seem to be directed at Clarke. "Echo is most certainly not 'getting away' with anything." She shifted her gaze away from her mate to Echo, and the cold smile grew slightly as Anna and Elsa brought their glittering white horse to a stop beside Clarke.

"Echo will be taking command of a strong-willed people who, after having the same ruler for nearly thirty years, will be on their third ruler in less than six months. Their tribe is split along fault lines both moral and practical, burned by a revolution for which she helped stoke the flames. She will be surrounded by angry men and women who will regard her as their rightful ruler, yes, but also as a traitor, once the stories of her abandoning her mission to assassinate Wanheda become known."

"But... how could they know that?!" Echo said, her voice unsteady. "All the others sent with me were dead!" Then, as understanding dawned, the color drained from her face.

Like the once-again-deceased Nia, Lexa played for keeps.

Lexa eased her horse another handful of steps closer to the new Queen of the Azgeda. "Believe me, Echo," Lexa said, her voice slightly lower but more steely than before, "it is _only_ your actions taken to save Clarke's life that have resulted in you still drawing breath at this moment."

She held Echo's angry, tearful gaze as she continued. "It would have been a simple matter to have killed every single Azgeda that took the battlefield today, either as a warrior or as support. Man, woman, boy, girl, ALL of them could have been cut down—and they would have been, had you not risked your own life to save the life of Wanheda. That single action showed that you have not entirely lost your humanity. Not yet."

Lexa waited a few seconds before continuing. She glanced over at Anna and Elsa and gave them both a restrained smile before she returned her attention to Echo. "I have no plans to reveal your duplicity to your people at this time. But you should assume that someone will. There were likely others privy to Nia's mission for you, and you must expect that the truth about your actions will eventually manifest itself. So you must _embrace_ that truth, not hide from it."

Lexa smiled at the look of surprise that flashed across Echo's face. "A ruler does not ask permission from her people," Lexa explained, not seeing the subtle nods of agreement from Elsa and Anna both. "She does what is best for them. You realized too late that you were wrong to support Nia's resurrection, to go along with the dark plans of the sorcerer who returned her to life, to capture and kill hundreds of innocents from a world that had nothing to do with our peoples' struggle. And from that point, you did what you could to try and thwart your insane queen's plans without challenging her directly."

Lexa turned to look directly at the two Arendellan queens. "But your actions cannot return to life the Arendellans who fell victim to those dark schemes. Their souls have been freed, but their deaths cry out for justice." She paused, meeting blue and green-blue gazes. "And those Arendellans _will_ have their justice."

Without warning, Lexa turned her horse and sent him forward toward the prisoner camp of the Azgeda at a gentle lope. Clarke immediately followed her, with Anna and Elsa doing the same seconds later. Echo only hesitated a bit longer before doing the same, turning to see that the escort that had accompanied her out of the Coalition camp had likewise began moving in the same direction, keeping their distance but not allowing Echo to pull away from them.

Lexa reined her horse to a stop roughly thirty meters away from the perimeter of the rough camp. "AZGEDA!" she cried out, her voice bringing all activity in the camp to a halt. "Those of you who participated in the magical rituals with the sorcerer are to step forward!"

Not waiting for them to comply, Lexa turned to Echo. "Did you participate in any of the rituals?" she asked, the coldness in her green eyes evident in her gaze.

Echo shook her head, unable to speak.

"That is fortunate," said Lexa. "Do you remember which of your people did?"

"S-some of them," Echo managed to stammer.

Lexa held Echo's nervous stare for several seconds, then she turned to Anna and Elsa. "Those who killed your people _will_ be punished," Lexa spoke softly. "I want none of them to escape the end they deserve."

"Thank you," Anna said quietly.

"Do you wish to take them back to Arendelle with you, to carry out their punishment in front of your people?"

Anna and Elsa shared another brief look before they gazed at Lexa once more. "We would appreciate that," Elsa said.

"Our people deserve to see them brought to justice," added Anna.

"Will you be okay getting them back to Arendelle?" Clarke asked. "I mean, that portal in your world was pretty far away from the town."

"Once we're back in our world, my magic should return to its full strength," said Elsa. "That will allow me to get them to Arendelle alive."

Echo's head whirled to face the strange blonde, seated behind the redhead. "You have magic as well?!" she said anxiously.

Elsa and Anna both turned to look at the other woman. "We do," Elsa replied. "Nia stole her magic from the blood of our people, from their suffering and death."

Echo closed her eyes, trying unsuccessfully to shut out the screams and cries of pain that had been audible despite the distance she had put between herself and the infernal ritual the sorcerer had carried out on that strange world. She would never be rid of those screams, always haunting the quiet moments when she tried to block out what she had done in service to her aunt... and to protect herself.

"I should be grateful you're not killing me right now, then," Echo admitted, the taste of ash in her dry mouth.

"Yes," Anna replied quickly. "You should." She met Echo's surprised look with a stern one of her own. Despite the fact that she and Elsa looked younger than Echo, they were over a decade older than the new Azgeda queen, and they had no sympathy to spare for the deaths the woman before them had helped facilitate.

With a gentle nudge of her right heel, which was less responsible for easing the icy steed forward than the thought in the back of her mind, Anna sent the creature she and Elsa were riding slowly toward the gathering Azgeda, who were nervously looking at each other. When the two of them and their mount were closer to the Azgeda than they were to the three women left behind them, Anna and Elsa scrutinized the scores of Azgeda warriors who yet lived.

It was an uncomfortable few seconds as the Azgeda carefully inspected the two strange women and their shimmering horse. The Azgeda who recognized Anna as the knight who had slain the sorcerer were trapped between fear and awe as they remembered the way she had faced and defeated the fearsome man who had possessed the power to return their queen to life and immolate his enemies. Those who did not recognize her were drawn to the snowy texture of the horse beneath the two women, looking more like something carved from packed snow and ice than a living creature, yet its sides expanded and contracted as if it was drawing breath, and puffs of frost came from its nostrils as it snorted and snuffled.

"Ice Clan warriors," Anna said, her voice so strict as to be biting, "we are the Queens of Arendelle. It was _our_ country you invaded while following the sorcerer, and it was _our_ people you murdered to return your queen to life. Those of you who invaded our country and participated in those abhorrent rituals where our people were murdered, you will be returning to Arendelle with us, to face judgment with our country as witness."

After Anna was finished, Lexa firmly said, "Upon your honor as warriors, those of you who followed the sorcerer to the other world are to _step forward!"_

Seeing several Azgeda look toward Echo, Lexa added, "I am aware that your new queen Echo was present, whether she actively participated in the ritual or not. She will be facing her own punishment very soon. Now, those of you involved, STEP FORWARD!"

Begrudgingly, several of the Azgeda began to take several steps forward, stopping after they had distanced themselves from the others. It was roughly a score of mostly men with a few women, some visibly wounded, all looking uneasy but defiant.

Lexa looked at Echo. "Are there any others who were there with you but have not stepped forward?" she asked, loud enough for the assembled Azgeda to hear.

Echo dismounted from her horse. Immediately two of the Coalition horsemen did the same, drawing their swords and moving forward to flank the anxious woman. She looked up at Lexa and Clarke and, getting a nod from Lexa, she walked toward the line of Azgeda who did not step forward.

She moved carefully down the line, scrutinizing each face. "This one," she said, pointing at one man a full head taller than her, her face still marked with dried blood on its left side. "You were with us, Hector."

The man snarled and meant to charge Echo, but he was stopped by the tip of a guard's sword against his abdomen.

"Move him to the side," Lexa said. "We will take him and any other cowards back to Polis, where their deaths will be slow and painful."

Abruptly, Hector rushed forward, nearly impaling himself on the guard's sword as he tried to force the smaller man to the ground. The warrior slid to the side and turned, twisting to allow the larger Azgeda to stumble forward and fall, pulling the sword to the side and into a guard position in the process.

Lexa was off of her horse in the blink of an eye, striding angrily toward the injured Azgeda. She drew a long dagger from its sheath on the side of her right thigh as she approached the prone warrior, easily sidestepping the man's attempt to lunge at her feet as she approached. She turned as she knelt, grasping his left lower leg as she slashed the knife across the taut tendons behind his left knee, severing them easily. He cried out with pain, but Lexa ignored it as she repeated the process with his right leg, leaving his legs essentially useless.

"You shame your people with your lies and your actions," Lexa hissed at the now-shrieking man. "You have no honor, so you will die in the cold dirt as you deserve." She stabbed her dagger into his right lower back, driving it deep enough to pierce bowel while trying to avoid the kidney, renal artery and aorta. She moved back as he rolled over, thrashing; she paused for a moment before plunging her dagger into his left lower back this time, burying it to the hilt in similar fashion and then quickly yanking it free.

"However long it takes you to die, you have earned your suffering," she growled at him. She stood back up, continuing to glare at the mortally wounded man. "He receives no treatment, no comfort," she said, looking at the guards behind the Azgeda as well as the Azgeda themselves. "Hopefully the scavengers which feed upon his remains will not take his dishonor into themselves."

"I do not offer mercy often," Lexa said, raising her voice, her bloodied dagger still in her hand as she looked up and down at the majority of the Azgeda. "So it would be wise of any of you to accept it while the offer stands. If any of you who trespassed on Arendellan land have yet to step forward, NOW IS THE TIME TO DO SO!"

Four Azgeda shuffled forward, one hobbling mostly on his good left leg as he did so, joining the Azgeda who had already confessed their involvement.

Lexa waited a few moments before she looked at Echo again. "Continue," she told the young queen. "I have something special in mind for any others who seek to escape justice."

A young Azgeda girl, still a teenager, ran forward, joining the others. She stopped so quickly that she nearly fell forward as she reached the others. Lexa glared at her but did not speak or move. The girl was shivering with fear as she tried to stand still, staring directly at the ground in front of her feet as she waited for some retribution.

Lexa fought to keep a satisfied grin off her face. _Now_ she was fairly sure that all those culpable had admitted their guilt. Still...

"Are there any others too cowardly to step forward and admit their guilt?" Lexa said, looking at Echo again.

The short-haired blonde resumed her walk down the line of Azgeda, searching faces for any she remembered being with her on that bloody trip into a world filled with even more snow than her home. None triggered any sense of recognition.

She turned to Lexa. "I don't think any of these others were involved."

Lexa held the new Azgeda queen's gaze for several seconds. There was no hesitation that she could read, either on Echo's face or in her eyes. Nervousness, yes, that was evident in the faint trembling her body manifested from moment to moment, but no sign of deceit. Without speaking, she gave Echo a single nod of dismissal, then turned back toward Clarke, Anna and Elsa.

"When will you return to Arendelle?" Lexa asked as she began to patiently make her way back toward the three of them.

Anna and Elsa shared a brief look before they returned their gazes to Lexa once more. "Once we know this is truly over," Elsa said.

Anna hated what she was about to say, but it needed to be said. "If Hans—the sorcerer—was able to bring Nia back from the dead, then we need to make sure he can't bring himself back."

Lexa's eyes slid to meet Clarke's suddenly-concerned gaze. "That... is a valid point of concern," the Heda spoke carefully.

"The Codex was destroyed," Anna said. "Even the bits of ash that were left. I made sure that every tiny piece of it was vaporized with our ice. Every damned thing it held in its cursed pages has been destroyed, so if he does manage to come back, it's not going to be with that book.."

A muffled snicker, almost a full chuckle, escaped from beneath the hand Clarke had quickly clamped over her mouth.

Curious eyes slowly moved to regard the abruptly shaking blonde as she tried to contain her strange amusement at some unspoken joke. After a few awkward seconds, in which time the blonde's mirth began to infect others with quirky smiles and unreleased laughter brimmed with potential energy, she finally waved feebly with her free right hand in the direction of the other women with her.

"It's an old saying," Clarke said as she tried to catch her breath, her runaway giddiness finally starting to wane. "That the pen is mightier than the sword."

Atop their glittering white steed, Anna and Elsa both smiled knowingly. "Not today," Anna said proudly.

—O—

Harper burst through the heavy canvas flaps serving as doors to the medical triage tent with a loud canvas _smack_. "Where is she?" she practically shouted, chest pounding and her head spinning from the worse-than-expected exertion of running back to camp. Her outburst and disheveled appearance managed to draw the attention of the half-dozen people currently inside the large tent. "Where's Zoe?!"

"She's in the back," Bellamy replied, standing up from where he was examining a wounded Desert Clan fighter. "I'll take you to her."

Harper swallowed down the flare of anger that bloomed in her chest at the sight of the older Ark refugee. It was his fault Monroe died, terrified and gasping for air that her swollen lungs couldn't use. It was his fault Monroe carried around crippling guilt that might still swallow her whole. And if she found out that what-the-fuck-ever had happened to Monroe _this_ time was his fault, too, then there was no telling what she was going to do to Bellamy Blake.

Harper tried not to let her anger overtake her as she glared at Bellamy's back while they went into another tent, this one with injured people both sitting and lying down, then into another tent, finally into a fourth tent that was much smaller and darker, with stacked crates and boxes taking up most of the area in the dark tent. Harper pressed her left hand to her chest to try and ease the anxious tightness gripping her chest, with limited benefit.

Instantly a figure shot to its feet from where it had been positioned on the ground in the center of the tent.

Harper had to fight from reaching for the pistol at her side as the figure, roughly Monroe's height, moved toward them. The gleam of a knife's blade in the dim light coming from the next tent was visible before any of the figure's features.

"Z-Zoe?" Harper asked weakly.

The gleam of the knife vanished, and the young face of Dido materialized as the young girl stepped closer. "Jusdonosir," she spoke reverently. "Your _houmon_ is over here."

With the _snick_ of a switch, a small light came on, held in Dido's left hand. "Ever since she was brought here, I have not left her," the girl said, motioning for Harper to follow her. She led the blonde through the stacks of supplies, rounding a corner to reveal Monroe slumping against a large mound of blankets.

The slight girl looked up at Harper, and the glistening sign of tears could be seen in the young Trikru's green eyes. "I... did not know what else to do," she spoke softly. "I did not want to overstep any boundaries. So I watched over her until you could be found."

Without thinking, Harper stepped forward and wrapped the slight girl up into a hug. "Thank you," she whispered, squeezing the odd Grounder girl. "For protecting her."

The girl's chin and bottom lip began to quiver as Harper pulled back enough to look her in the eyes. "It was my honor to protect her," Dido breathed out, her voice shaky. "She saved the noncombatants, the healers, the wounded, with what she did."

Which Harper still wasn't exactly aware of. But that could wait. "You can stay, if you want," Harper told the girl, the dark fuzz of the Grounder girl's nearly-shaved hair looking even darker in the shadows cast by the sole light in the room. "We won't mind."

Dido nodded once, the simple motion dislodging a rebellious tear that snaked its way down her left cheek. "I will wait outside. Guard the entrance to this tent."

Harper smiled and nodded. "Thank you," she said tenderly, the pounding of her heart seeming to ease appreciably. "You're a good friend and an even better protector."

Unable to trust her voice due to her swirling emotions, Dido nodded and quietly slid past Harper. She looked up at Bellamy, and the emotion in her emotions turned darker despite the dim lighting. "Out," she told him, softly but firmly.

For two long seconds Bellamy looked down at the small girl, a little over half his size. But the look on her face made it quite clear that should he refuse to comply, she would have no hesitation in forcing him to do so. It was a different look than the defiance he had seen in Octavia's eyes for so many years; where his younger sister's actions had been mostly out of stubbornness and curiosity, there was an intensity in the Grounder's gaze that spoke of something darker, something almost eager to lash out.

Wordlessly, he turned and exited the tent. Because his back was turned, he couldn't see Dido slip her favorite knife back into its sheath at her hip, her feelings mixed that there had been no need to use it.

Harper settled herself onto the floor beside Monroe, shifting until she was pressed against the lithe redhead. "Please let me hold you," she whispered to her lover; as she soon as she heard a whimper and felt a nod against her shoulder, she half-pulled Monroe up and onto her lap. Monroe continued to cry, but as her left arm weakly crept around Harper's side and the blonde's arms wrapped protectively around her lover's torso, the shaking and sobs began to ease slightly.

"Shhh," Harper whispered softly, pressing her lips into Monroe's thickly braided hair, breathing in the smell of her lover. "I've got you now, baby. I've got you."

"I..." Monroe tried to wetly say, only to hushed by a kiss on her temple.

"You don't have to say anything, baby. Not right now." Harper didn't try to keep from crying. She let the tears fall, flowing into Monroe's dark red hair as the redhead's tears wet Harper's shirt and the skin beneath.

But Monroe was stubborn, something Harper would never dispute or try to mitigate. "I... I killed again, Harp," she rasped out in a voice just above a whisper. "I didn't want to. I _didn't_. But if I hadn't..."

"If you hadn't, then more would have died," Harper finished for her. "I know. And you know too. You're just too busy beating yourself up over it to really get it right now."

Harper felt as much as heard Monroe mumble something against her chest. "What, baby?" she asked tenderly. "I couldn't hear you."

"I let you down," Monroe whispered, shivering once as finished speaking.

"Oh, no, baby. No, no. You didn't let me down." Harper kissed Monroe's head repeatedly in attempt to further comfort her partner. "You did something that you didn't want to do to protect others. That's not letting me down."

"They're going to kill me now," Monroe whispered, anguish in her voice despite it being nearly inaudible. "For using a gun again. And then you'll be alone."

"Hey," Harper said, unable to keep her heart from plunging into her stomach as she considered Monroe's words. "They're not going to kill you, Zoe. I'm not going to let them. Clarke won't let them."

"Our families are gone. We're all that's left of them."

Confused by the sudden jump, Harper blinked once. "Then we make a new family. That's what we've been doing, Zoe, building a place for us."

It was quiet in the dark tent for a few minutes, the only noises soft sniffling, the ringing in Harper's ears and the occasional deep breath or sigh. Practically shivering with nerves as she frantically debated something she had been contemplating for days, Harper finally came to a decision. Harper bent her neck until she could place a kiss on the skin just beside Monroe's eye. "Marry me," she breathed out, her lips millimeters from Monroe's ear. "Take me as your wife."

The soft gasp of surprise was audible in the silence of the room. "You serious?" Monroe asked in her ragged voice. "I thought... I thought you said we didn't need anything official, that we were good like we were."

"And we are," Harper replied proudly, her heart burning with passion that she let shoot freely through her arteries, setting fire to every part of her body. "But I _want_ to be your wife. I want us to be recognized officially, now and forever."

Monroe swallowed in the darkness, nestled securely in the arms of the woman she loved more than anything. She took several deep breaths before she finally felt capable of speech. "Holy fuck," she breathed out, smiling despite the anguish of the last few hours. "Yeah. Yes. _Yes_ , I'll marry you."

—O—

As the two partners kissed, Dido listened from her position just outside the thin canvas flap serving as a makeshift door. She found it strange that two _houmons_ felt the need to have another commitment ceremony, but she supposed it was a Skaikru thing.

As for the tears in her eyes, she blamed them on the musty smell of the tent.

—O—

"Harp?"

The soft rasp of her lover's voice in her ear made Harper shudder. "Yeah baby?" she replied gently.

"Can... can we get out of this tent? And go outside?"

Harper shifted her head to look in Monroe's eyes, just barely visible in the darkness inside the tent. "Are you going to be okay with that?" she asked, softly pressing the middle finger of her right hand against the side of Monroe's neck, searching out the redhead's heartbeat and sighing softly as she felt the rapid thrum beneath the skin. "You're still pretty freaked out, baby."

Monroe nodded, carrying out the movement slowly and gently so as not to butt heads with the blonde. "Yeah, but..." She smiled, visible even in the dim light with their faces so close. "You're with me," she said. "It'll... it'll be okay."

Monroe leaned forward, pressing her lips against Harper's tenderly. When Harper sighed, her lips opening slightly, Monroe very lightly sucked on her lover's upper lip; in a response they both knew very well, the blonde's mouth opened, allowing the kiss to deepen. For several seconds all the killing, the pain, the blood, the nightmares were forgotten as two young women thought only of each other and how they made each other feel.

For a few precious moments, all the shadows and darkness in the world were burned away by True Love's light.

—O—

"Fuck," Monroe hissed softly as her eyes spasmed shut in the still-bright sunlight of the late afternoon; she held the canvas door of the large tent open as Harper exited as well.

The smile that spread across Harper's face went unseen, unfortunately. "What, right here?" she asked, her voice playful. "I mean, I guess we _could_ , but..."

"Smartass," Monroe said, the loving tone in her voice removing any sting from the remark.

They stood quietly for two minutes, waiting as their eyes slowly adjusted to the brightness.

"You want to go for a walk?" Harper asked, gesturing in the direction of the path leading out of the valley, back in the direction of Polis. "Could go down to that river nearby. That might be peaceful."

After a moment of consideration, Monroe nodded. "That sounds pretty kick-ass."

Harper smiled and took Monroe's hand; she gently tugged her partner forward, setting a slow, unhurried pace that Monroe matched, the two of them taking the time to examine the walls of the mountains looming near them, the foliage both along the wide path and the trees farther ahead of them. They were careful to avoid the occasional pile of horse excrement as they meandered down the makeshift road; before they reached the place where Monroe had broken her vow to never fire a gun again, they turned to take a slightly less well-travelled path in the direction of the gurgling river they could hear ahead of them but not yet see.

They didn't speak for nearly ten minutes, each content to enjoy the other's touch and company as they settled upon on a patch of short grass on the face of a shallow incline roughly twenty meters away from the riverbank. The clear water rushed and tumbled over the visible rocks making up its bed, some of them daring to forsake their watery home for the openness of the air.

The two women sat and watched the river for several minutes before Harper moved her feet closer, bending her knees as she reclined back onto the grass, the rapid beating of her heart still singing in her ears as she grinned. "If nothing's climbed out of the river and tried to kill us by this point, it's probably not going to," she said with a sigh, laced with a hint of resignation as she turned her vision up to the sky, a deep shade of blue with only a few irregular puffy clouds breaking up the color above them. "God, this is beautiful."

"It is," Monroe replied as she matched Harper's new position, settling in so that her left arm and leg were resting against Harper's right. "And it's still not as beautiful as you."

"Oh, _God_ ," Harper groaned, laughing. Hearing the soft laugh from the suffering woman beside her made Harper's inside warm with joy and gratitude. "That was a terrible pick-up line, Zoe."

"Try telling me that later, when I'm between your legs," Monroe replied cheekily.

Harper gasped, lifting her head and propping herself up on her elbows to look at the smiling redhead beside her, but there was something about the way Monroe was looking at her that caused her next quip to catch in her throat.

Mixed in with the discoloration beneath her eyes, still red from tears shed that day, were thin tracks of tears, but those tears ran down her cheeks to meet a wide, honest smile that seemed to defy not just the emotional anguish of the day but also the constant struggle for survival the two of them had come to know over the last year.

"It wasn't a pick-up line," Monroe said, her eyes verifying the seriousness of her words as she gazed adoringly at the woman she loved, the woman she had loved even back up on the Ark, despite their sometimes-tumultuous emotions regarding each other as they made their way from childhood to adolescence. "It was the truth."

Harper's chest felt like Monroe had shifted position to lay on top of her, carrying a crate of tools with her for added weight. "I love you," she managed to breathe out despite the tightness currently gripping her lungs.

Monroe's smile grew even bigger. "I love you, too," she replied warmly, leaning forward for a long, tender kiss. The two flirted with deepening the kiss, letting the moment turn into something more, but they reluctantly pulled their lips away after several seconds. "I—" Monroe began, stopping almost immediately. "I... I don't know if I'll, uh, b-be... ready," she stammered out haltingly. "For, uh, that. You know. I might've sounded confident just a minute ago, but I, uh, I'm just barely keeping it together right now."

Harper's smile was pure comfort, and Monroe was certain that if angels had been real, the face looking back at her would have been one of them. "Then I'll just hold you," Harper said softly. "We're about so much more than sex, Zoe. I'm with you for anything, for everything. You're the reason I wake up in the morning, lying down in your arms at night is my reward for making it through another day, and every moment in between that I get to spend with you reminds me of why being alive is a good thing."

"Thank you," Monroe whispered, closing her eyes and wishing she was as good as her partner when it came to expressing her feelings in words.

"C'mon," Harper said, tipping her head toward the grass. "Lie back down. We've got all the time we want."

The two of them settled back into their former positions, Harper's right hand and Monroe's left clasped together as they resumed their lazy scrutiny of the clouds dotting the sky.

"Why do clouds look so different from this side?" Harper asked, in a tone somewhere between curious and content.

"Probably because we're closer." Monroe gave Harper's hand a light squeeze. "The background's different, too."

After several seconds of contemplation, Harper finally said, "Yeah, I could see that. But maybe we need to do more research."

"You mean lie here some more?"

"Well, how else could we study them?"

Monroe closed her eyes, relishing the feeling of the sun on her face, the kiss of the breeze on her skin, the sound of the river's steady motion, the warmth of her lover beside her. "I'd like that," she finally said, struggling to find the words to convey the rush of feelings coursing through her. "This... This is what I want to do," she said, haltingly at first but gaining smoothness as she continued. The thrill of adrenaline was now fully suffusing through her body as she summoned her courage, and it was a heart-pounding, giddy sensation that threatened to overwhelm her. "I want to be with you, Harp," she breathed out, her chest tight. "And that's all I want. To be with you."

Hearing something different in her partner's voice, Harper turned her head to look at Monroe, who had her eyes closed as she fought for words.

"All this shit that we've been through... With the Grounders first attacking us, to all the assholes in that mountain, to Pike and his bullshit, to this fucking war today—" Monroe swallowed, wishing her heart would slow down. "All of that suffering, all of that pain that we've both been through, it's all the fault of stupid shitheads _wanting_ something or _afraid_ of something."

Monroe's eyes opened, watery blue-green meeting Harper's brown. "I'm happiest when I'm with you, Harper. When it's you and me, no matter what we're doing. I appreciate some of the people in Arkadia, I really do, but some of them only cause trouble, and most of them complicate the shit out of everything."

"Can't argue with you on that," Harper sighed. "Being on the Council taught me that right off."

Monroe turned onto her side, draping her arm across Harper's chest and placing a kiss on her lover's cheek. "Following Bellamy and following Pike only got people killed," she said quietly, her voice strained. "Including me."

Harper's eyes closed, not quickly enough to catch the tear that dove down her left cheek. "Don't remind me, please," she breathed out. "God, I was so scared. If you had—"

"Don't finish that, please," Monroe quickly whispered. She knew exactly what Harper would have done, had the redhead not stubbornly refused to stay dead; Monroe had suffered countless nightmares where she had had to watch Harper fall apart over the redhead's lifeless body. Some nights she was able to claw her way back to consciousness before dream-Harper invariably ended her own life in any of a dozen different ways. Most nights, she wasn't that fortunate.

Harper took in some shaky breaths. "Okay," she agreed. She didn't like thinking back to the bleak thoughts that had refused to leave her side for those days Monroe was on a ventilator, that morass of self-loathing as faithful a companion to her as she had been for the unconscious Monroe.

Monroe wasn't the only one battling psychic demons of her own on a daily—or nightly—basis.

"Okay," Monroe said wetly, trying to recover her previous train of thought. "We're both fucked up. Got it."

Harper laughed once, as tears escaped from their prison of eyelashes. "But hey, at least we're fucked up together, right?" she said, half-jokingly.

Despite the somber subject, Monroe found her lips curling into a smile, a motion that made her cheeks hurt with the recent unfamiliarity of the gesture.

"I think we need some time off," Harper said, pulling Monroe more tightly against her. The redhead situated her head on Harper's shoulder, close enough to press a kiss on the blonde's jaw if she'd lean just a centimeter closer. The warm breath of her lover on Harper's neck sent a shiver through her body.

"Be nice if we could get that," Monroe said tiredly. "I'm sorry again about the sex. It's just been..."

"You don't need to apologize, Zoe," Harper said, careful to not sound too frustrated. "When you're ready, I'm ready. And I'm _still_ your woman, in any case."

The smile that graced Monroe's thin lips was as genuine as any expression could be. "Thank all the stars in the sky for that," she whispered softly.

Harper run the fingers of her right hand through Monroe's short hair. "And when you're ready, then we can get back to the mind-blowing sex."

Monroe smiled, both at the levity as well as the promise in those words. No one knew how to soothe her anguished psyche like the quiet but intense blonde smiling at her. "Deal," she replied, leaning over to kiss Harper on the lips, holding the kiss.

When Monroe pulled back, she could see a hint of surprise on Harper's face at the normally stoic redhead being the one to initiate a gesture of affection. Deciding to keep her partner slightly off-balance, Monroe asked, "What are we going to do about names?"

Harper blinked a few times, then her brown eyes seemed to shine as a happy smile spread over her lips. "Well, if I took your last name, that'd just fuck everything up. Since everybody calls you Monroe, you know?"

It wasn't often that Zoe Monroe smiled and meant it in a happy way. Life had dumped too much shit onto her for too long. But as she lay on the grass, inches away from the beautiful woman who was her lover and was going to be her wife, the happiness that Monroe felt in her heart temporarily overwhelmed the horrors and pain she had suffered in her short life.

The small redhead sighed, this time an act of contentment rather than frustration or fatigue. "I love you, Harp," she said softly but earnestly, letting the swelling feeling of comfort and confidence inside her push aside the doubt and regret that had briefly threatened to consume her once more.

"Yeah?" Harper replied, grinning as she felt Monroe shift her arm, adjusting their position so that now it was Harper who was leaning into Monroe rather than the other way around.

Monroe closed her eyes, letting herself get lost in the warmth and comfort of Harper's embrace. "Yeah," she breathed out.

—O—

 **Author's Afterword:** I wanted to end this chapter on a bit of a happier note. The little snippets about Elsa and Anna visiting Agrabah represent an entirely different story that hasn't been written yet. Don't worry, you haven't missed anything.

Just about two chapters left in this particular story, I think. Sorry for the delay in posting this one. I've literally had it ready to post for weeks, just had a block about posting it for some weird reason. Please forgive me for the delay. Thanks for reading, and I've already started on the next chapter. I'll spare you any predictions, because I seem to get those wrong, but I'll shoot for a few weeks.


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